Orion felt more annoyed with each lap he took around the table.
He had way too much nervous energy and nowhere to put it. His fingers kept reaching for the inner pocket where the Computing Crystal was, more to reassure himself of its weight than out of actual need.
Its first outing, and it could do nothing against the Council room’s wards. Perhaps that was unfair, since he hadn’t even tested it. But the people who had cast those spells were so far beyond him it was hard to fathom, so how could his creation match them so soon after its birth?
Shaking his head, he refocused on the actual source of his annoyance.
He ought to have been above this. Seeing that man had hit him harder than he expected, leaving him unsteady. Not that he wanted a warm reunion, but he kept replaying his actions, struggling to understand his intentions.
Asteria held her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles stood out, her skin a shade too pale to be called healthy. She hadn't said much since Mallon dismissed the chamber, nor had she asked him to stop pacing, which was how he knew she was not fine.
“It shouldn’t have mattered,” he said, keeping his voice low because while the wards would keep their secrets, he didn’t want to hear the sound of his own uncertainty. “I told myself it wouldn’t. And then it did. More than I thought it would.”
Asteria’s mouth moved, trying and failing to summon a reassuring smile. “It’s normal to be affected.”
“It’s not fair.” He almost whined there, but since it was just the two of them, he didn’t care.
“It isn’t,” she agreed. “I don’t know why I hoped he wouldn’t come. He never did what I expected him to.”
“You didn’t look at him,” Orion said, hiding a question in his tone.
“I would have socked him across the face if I did,” she answered, dissimulating with a forced smirk.
He wanted to ask more, to get to the heart of it. What does he mean to you now? And what did he mean then? Why would a man who shouldn’t even know about my existence show up? But the door did him the favor of swinging open before he could find the courage.
Elder Yue stood on the threshold, as calm as ever. Even though the Council nearly issued a civil war declaration, it didn’t seem to have an effect on her at all.
“Come,” she said. “We won’t speak here.”
The room’s privacy spells were strong, but even so, Orion felt relieved when they started moving. There was something about this place that put him on guard, and he wouldn’t put it past an enterprising Archmage to have slipped something through the wards.
The two guards at the High Council door didn't look away from the middle distance as the trio passed, and Ophelia’s grandfather, who was waiting just outside the main hall, bowed to Yue and let them go without comment.
The carriage was already waiting at the side entrance, the same overly comfortable vehicle that had taken them into the lion’s den that morning. Orion boarded after Yue and Asteria, and the door clicked shut behind him, sealing away the Complex’s stifling atmosphere.
They didn’t speak until the embassy’s silver gates closed behind them and the carriage stopped in the shadow of the manor.
Even then, no one risked saying a word in the front courtyard. Not so much out of fear as out of pure inertia. Only when the heavy doors closed and the darkness of the entry hall gave way to the soft light of the familiar sitting room did Yue finally open her mouth.
“Sit,” she said, before taking a seat herself.
Orion watched the embassy’s wards activate with [Verification Principle] as he sat, and knew that only a full-on assault would let anyone spy on them.
“The Council cooled down after you left,” Yue said. “Barely, in truth, but we avoided a mess.”
Orion stayed silent despite the many questions he wanted to ask. Elder Yue didn’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate interruptions.
“Perhaps I should give you some background. There was a pact,” she continued. “Ophelia’s parents, the daughter of the Minister of Rites, and the current Golden General, who is a former dragonlord and the head of Aurum, the mightiest mercenary force in Cyril, appeared before the dragonlords and asked for help during a tough season.”
She paused to see if Orion was following, and when he nodded, she continued, “The Coil—Lord Varkesh’s bloodline—agreed, and its price was the child of their union, to be raised among dragonkin. She would be educated, kept safe, and used as leverage, so that when the Golden General regained his power, he would owe them.”
“A hostage,” Asteria commented disparagingly. She probably doesn’t think much of anyone who would give up their child, no matter the circumstances.
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Yue nodded, unfazed. “Then the girl grew,” she said. “And she did not grow to be ordinary.”
“Her parents balked when her class was revealed,” Yue said. “I will give them this: they were not entirely wrong. A child with that kind of talent sent away as a living bond is a child that will never be returned. The dragonlords would not have released her. Not until she had been so thoroughly broken that there was no risk of retaliation.”
“So they reneged,” Orion said.
“They reneged on the deal,” Yue acknowledged. “I don’t doubt the Golden General thought about waging war against the dragolords, but despite his strength, he’s still too weak to face an entire faction alone. So, they chose a less confrontational approach, taking their time and never outright refusing. Over time, Varkesh grew impatient, which led to his mistake. Instead of forcing a breach in the chamber and claiming victory through legal means, he sought a quick punishment for his enemies. He sent his forces, then mercenaries, when those failed, to abduct the girl.”
Orion pictured the carriage roof cracking, an arrow that had slipped next to a tower shield, and the sound of bones breaking as the melee descended into chaos. He shook off the memory, not wanting to get lost in it.
“And then,” Yue said, “the Sanctum got involved. You met her on the road to Last Thaw. A new faction showed up, and the calculations shifted. What might have been a claim turned into a dispute.”
“Which we helped escalate,” Asteria said quietly.
“Which you couldn’t have known to avoid,” Yue gently corrected. “But they overplayed their hand by attacking within Valderun.”
“No one seemed eager to punish him until the Archmage stepped in," Orion threw in. Though he wasn’t sure how he felt about his biological father, it was undeniable that the man had helped them.
Yue nodded, watching him with curiosity. "That is one thing to bare your teeth at a witch who left my hall with more enemies than friends,” she said, not looking at Asteria when she did, which was its own kind of mercy, “and another to discover that a man who never comes to these rooms is suddenly willing to sit in one. Antares has built a reputation for disregarding minor conflicts. Since he was willing to address this one, some believed there must be an unseen reason behind it."
“So what happened after we left?” Asteria asked, changing the subject without subtlety.
Yue eyed her before deciding it wasn’t worth arguing now. “It took some time, but we have a document. A declaration of intent, if not a treaty in truth.”
“What’s in it?” Orion asked.
“Repayment to the Coil,” Yue answered. “Not just in coin, which everyone knows the Golden General doesn’t lack. It includes food, leases, and a specific quarry exchange for a set number of years. A formal record of the contract breach and that the girl was not delivered as per the agreement, but also that she is her own, free person, and cannot be used as a bargaining tool. She will remain free and be unbound by claims from any faction, as long as she doesn’t return to her father for the two decades.”
Orion turned the words over in his mind, humming. “And they accepted that?”
“They didn’t contest it too hard,” Yue said. “Though to be truthful, they only agreed because Antares intervened and offered himself as a mediator. He’s seen as a neutral voice, so both accepted.”
The room’s temperature dropped by a degree. Asteria didn’t react, but something tightened inside her shoulders.
“Of course he did,” she said, very softly, and Yue’s eyes slid to her face, read it, and then looked away again.
“Your part in this matter is finished,” Yue told them both. “It’s typical for the Council to make a show of considering the obvious before making a proclamation, but you can expect the official edict to arrive within the next couple of hours.”
“And the draconids accepted that?” Orion asked.
Yue’s mouth flattened. “Proud beings that won’t back down they might be, but they alone cannot face everyone,” she said. “Varkesh has the elders of his clan behind him. Some of those elders recall a time when humans were little more than primitive creatures, and their methods were rough and unrefined. You will have to watch your back if you travel east.”
“Does that mean I can see Ophelia?” he asked. “Now, I mean. If the matter is settled.”
Yue looked momentarily surprised. “You can,” she said. “She is with her grandfather, but I imagine she will want to taste the freedom she’s been granted.”
“I was promised a tour,” Orion said. “The best mou shops in the capital. I don’t intend to miss it.”
Asteria tilted her head, and a strangled laugh escaped her tightly pressed lips. “Of course you weren’t going to let that go.”
Orion smiled, not mentioning that he could sense the unspoken words between the two witches. Without him, they would be able to talk much more openly.
Ophelia met him in the antechamber outside the Minister’s private offices, her hair braided back neatly, and her cheeks still a little too pale. She looked exhausted and jittery at the same time, but her eyes were bright.
“You,” she said, pointing at him as if she’d been holding the gesture in reserve, “are the only person I know who would test the worth of an agreement not yet dried to try some mou.”
“It’s a very good beverage,” he said. “And your promise has been haunting me. You know how I feel about integrity.”
She snorted. “Come on, then, before I get pulled into another lesson from the countless tutors grandfather hired.”
Behind them, two guards peeled from the shadows and started to follow. Both were of the third tier, high enough for his Inspect to fail, but their presence comforted him.
At least, they will make enough of a ruckus for us to escape if we're attacked.
Ophelia chattered as they walked, part performance and part venting. “Grandfather pretended he didn’t care, but the minute the Council released its deliberations, he hugged me so hard he cracked the bones in my back. Also, he’s trying really hard not to set the dragonlord on fire. Has anyone told the dragonlord that he nearly declared war on taste today? Because that outfit—”
“Ophelia.”
“What? If I don’t joke about this, I feel like I’ll go insane.”
“Fair,” Orion said. “I just think this might not be the place to talk about it.”
They slipped from government streets into merchant lanes until Ophelia led him to a corner shop, whose sign was a stylized flower picked out in silver thread against indigo cloth. The door’s chime echoed softly, only loud enough to alert the owners to their presence.
Wood and brass dominated the interior, with a long counter lined with glass funnels and silver kettles, and a roaster in the back slowly mixing a mass of caramel.
The proprietor looked up, taking in the guards' livery, and smiled warmly. “My lady,” he greeted. “And friends. Are you bringing half the Magisterium with you today?”
“Just what my grandfather forced on me,” Ophelia said, leaning on the counter like a conspirator. “We’ve earned a treat after the past few days. What would you advise?”
“The western terraces are lovely today, and as for a drink, I have an early harvest, light roast for you. It has a smooth start, floral notes, and a slightly bitter finish to round it out. Do you take milk?” The man asked, already moving among the various jars.
“No,” Orion said. “No adulteration.”
The proprietor’s mouth twitched up. “Pour-over then,” he decided.
He weighed the grounds, maintaining the water temperature with a spell. The initial bloom filled the room, and the first pour enhanced the floral smell. Orion leaned forward, fascinated to watch a master at work.
Two cups were soon filled, and they were led to the promised terrace, where a maid set down the heavenly brew.
Orion barely waited for the woman to step back before grabbing it. The first sip confirmed the proprietor’s promises weren’t empty, being smoother than the Silverpeak brew he was used to, more cleanly floral, and with a clean bitterness that left him reaching for more. He let his eyes close for a heartbeat. “That’s just beautiful.”
For a while, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment, and all was well.
The calm shattered when the light a hundred feet away bent and folded.
A man stepped down from the distortion onto the pavement, his white hair catching the light softly.
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