Agreed. There is yet room for negotiating. She announced that she will confer with you and the other Autocrators before speaking with the leaders of the rebellion and formulating her final plans. We can press for advantage by ceding matters of little importance.
Such as?
Scorio made a very impassioned appeal in favor of meeting the people’s demands. I think he made an impact on Nova, who will no doubt demand concessions. I say we give them. In truth, with so little time left to us, what does it matter if the people are taxed less or allowed to move to other wards?
Hmm, grunted Praximar noncommittally.
That and I planted the idea that we could allow an elected representative of the people to sit as a non-voting member of the Council.
Absolutely not.
Wake up, Praximar. Nothing defuses anger at the government like having to figure out an electoral system and who gets to vote and for whom. The people will forget everything but this process, and for what? A non-voting member. It’s a concession that costs us nothing, gladdens the hearts of the masses, makes us look good, and affords us the ability to ask for what matters.
Gold mana.
Indeed. Equally shared between the four Houses, of course, but that need not remain the case.
Not for long, at any rate. Very well. Praximar straightened and forced his shoulders back. I can play the part of the paternal patrician, elevating the poor and hungry masses to civic responsibility. A seat at the table. As for the reduced taxes, well. It takes time to take a new census and evaluate what people can pay. And the wards… yes. There’s no denying the logic behind that demand, especially if we limit which wards they can enter.
I will keep you apprised of developments on this end. You will put our plan into place? You cannot allow that Heart Oath to constrain you.
It will once it’s set, grinned Praximar toothily. Until then, I am at liberty to act as I see fit. Yes. I will send the missive.
Excellent. We’ll talk soon.
Thank you, Moira. As always, you have the House’s gratitude.
There was a pause, then: Indeed.
And the line of communication shut.
Praximar shivered and took up the mug, thoughts racing. He drained the tea then sat, pushed up his sleeves, and took up a fresh sheet of parchment. Dipped his quill in ink and set to writing a letter.
When he was done he scattered fine sand over the words, tipped it off, then rolled it up without signing or affixing his seal. He slid the parchment into a common scroll tube and then rang his bell.
Veris, his aide, opened the door, his manner alert, curious. Praximar guarded these rare hours of solitude fiercely. To be summoned was a rarity.
“Veris, see to it that this scroll is delivered discretely but with the utmost security to Eira. Ensure that the messenger does not know that it comes from me. You have such a man?”
“Oh, absolutely, chancellor. I do indeed.” Veris slipped inside and closed the door. “It will be done exactly as you command.”
“Very good.” For a moment, Praximar tapped the scroll against his other palm, considering the change and violence that it would set off in the days to come. For a moment doubt assailed him, but then he grimaced and held the tube out to Veris, who took it, bowed low, and departed.
There.
It was done.
Praximar sat back down, exhausted. He pulled The Tome of Souls back across the desk and opened it to the ribbon marker once more. As always the list of lost Imperators gave him solace.
It was all worth it. A gamble, to be sure, but what choice did they have?
Composing himself and pulling his blanket across his knees once more, he turned the page and peered down at the faded entry. Within moments he was smiling once more.
Chapter 20
“Wait, what does this mean?” asked Lianshi as she strode into their obsidian quarters. She turned to face them all, eyes wide, stunned. “The White Queen is leaving. What comes next?”
Manticore had accompanied them down, their silence prompting the rest to not chatter in excitement as they made their way to the suite and now everyone looked to the Dread Blazes.
Scorio felt feverish, alive, elated, and racked with fear. How much of this was his fault? Or was he merely a tool, a convenient means for the White Queen to make her announcement?
It was the third member of Manticore to which Evelyn and Davelos turned. He had a long, oval face, long silken brown hair that hung down over his shoulders and his beard was so dense that it looked almost painted on, his cheeks cleanshaven, his eyes small and heavy-lidded. There was something distant about his manner, yet tender, as if his thoughts strayed to poetic and cherished matters.
“Hello, everyone. It’s a pleasure to meet you all, though I’d not expected the occasion to be so dramatic.” He smiled warmly at them all. “The name’s Simeon, a Dread Blaze with Manticore. Class of 867.”
“You heard their introductions,” said Evelyn, arms crossed, foot tapping. “So c’mon, Simeon. What do you think? We need to send word to Dameon.”
“Yes. Though that will take time. We might be better served by catching a ride with the Duchess to Bastion and then making our way to the Chasm from there. Saves us having to loop all the way to the far side of the Plains.”
Davelos clucked his tongue. “We could ask Moira to tell him to meet us in Bastion. He should be there regardless given what’s coming.”
“Though that tips Moira off to our plans,” said Simeon gently. “Not that she’d be surprised.”
“She can speak across distances?” asked Scorio. “Send messages?”
Evelyn sneered. “Only if she touches you. It’s a huge risk to let her do so. If you’re on good terms with her she can boost your intelligence, speak with you across distances, make you feel good and strong. If you’re not, well…”
“I’d advise you steer clear of her,” said Simeon. “Unless she’s touched you already?”
Leonis and Scorio shared a glance.
“No,” said Scorio.
“But she did join us in the hot pools,” added Leonis awkwardly.
“She what?” demanded Lianshi.
Everyone stared at them.
Scorio flushed. “We didn’t invite her in, or anything. She was just there suddenly. Said she wanted to meet us and take our measure.”
“You’re too kind, my friend,” said Leonis heavily. “But I distinctly recall her saying that only about you.”
“But no touching?” asked Evelyn.
“In the heated pool?” Lianshi sounded scandalized. “Of course not. Do you think she offered them a massage?” She frowned at them both. “She didn’t, did she?”
Scorio laughed helplessly. “No! Are you mad? The Pyre Lady did not offer us a massage. She was very… intense, but kept to herself.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion,” muttered Naomi.
Simeon crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, subtly pulling eyes back to him. “Regardless, Dameon allowed her to touch him and made it very public that she did. If he suddenly starts acting like a commoner affected by the Curse everyone will know why. We’ll ask Moira to warn him. If Eldrin has arrived with The Sloop, he’ll be able to reach Bastion in little over a day.”
The other two nodded and Simeon turned back to the Emberlings and Tomb Sparks. “But what a day. One for the history books.”
“Hold up,” said Jova, expression fierce. “I was led to understand that the White Queen is the backbone of the Rascor Plains and leads Bastion’s defense. How can she leave? Who or what would take her place?”