Chills ripple against my skin. Julian had mentioned threats from the northern empire yesterday, and now Verhardt is dead. Could this all be the work of our greatest enemy?
“You think they had something to do with this?” Julian asks.
“It’s possible, especially considering the timing, but no, I doubt it,” Hadrian says. “Their king isn’t above assassinations, but we’ve bloodlessly ceded land every time they’ve incurred. This is something else. I think someone was seizing an opportunity—or making one.”
He stares at Verhardt’s chest and strokes his beard. I catch the slight twitch of his left eye.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It looks… I don’t know… It almost seems Elusian, with how clean everything is,” Hadrian says. “He is completely disemboweled, and those cuts don’t appear natural.”
We all stare at the body. The Elusians, the royal bloodline, each had different, unnatural powers. The Senate and the sentries loyal to them had to strike in one coordinated massacre at Jubilee Palace and on the Senate floor to prevent them from using that magic, and even then, there were casualties. One Elusian with the right power could topple an empire.
Or so they say.
The lore of Elusian blood magic has grown significantly since the Crimson Night.
Julian shakes his head. “That’s impossible. There are no Elusians left.”
General Hadrian frowns. “No, it’s not impossible, just improbable. Anything is possible.”
I shudder, but it’s just the dewy morning—that’s all.
“What happens now with the conclave?” Julian asks. “Our province can’t elect a new senator in time. Just casting and tabulating a vote in the capital takes weeks, not to mention campaigns and debates.”
I rub my forehead. “I suspect that was the point.”
We stand silently for the moment. Without Verhardt, the capital’s province, the richest and most powerful of the seven, will now lack a voice in this conclave. Someone else will rise to power as Senate Leader. Every senator has ambitions and agendas—could one of them have been behind this murder?
Senators Eyo and Medea were here last night as Verhardt’s guests, and the others were no doubt close by, as they all have villas in the Southside.
“General! Praetorian!” a sentry calls out, waving his arm.
Another sentry runs to the steps of the altar. “We found the head of the senator and the…rest of him.”
“Well, that was quick,” Julian says. “Good job.”
“Block this off with work screens—no one goes near the altar,” General Hadrian says to the dozen sentries waiting nearby. They salute him and surround the altar as we walk down the stairs.
“Quite a morning,” Julian whispers to me. “All of this before you could tell me where you and the High Priestess disappeared to last night.”
I stare at him out of the corner of my eye. This isn’t the time for humor and certainly not the time to talk abouther. He straightens his back, heeding the warning shot.
We approach another group of sentries. All ten of them avoid looking at the fountain. The three-tiered structure had been drained and used as a torchier by Kerasea last night. The admiration of the Faith was spoken about all evening—it was mentioned nearly as much as her stunning beauty.
I grind my teeth. Curse Julian for bringing her up. I really don’t need to think her name. There’s a violent murderer on the loose, the republic is in grave danger, my position is in jeopardy, and I’m focused on a dress and a stare. I’m no better than Jules right now.
One of the twins is among the men standing by the fountain. He’s sweating on this chilly morning, and he’s turned a vague shade of green. Just as I notice his coloring, he leans forward and vomits, nearly hitting the general’s sandals.
“Gods, man,” General Hadrian says, jumping back.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The man wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Some captains would have him whipped at the post for the slight, but General Hadrian sighs. “It’s all right. Go get cleaned up and send a replacement.”
“Right away, sir. Thank you, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” The sentry salutes and runs back to the barracks. I think he’s going to be sick again, but something else is wrong. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
I exchange glances with Julian.
