Ten
???
The imperial summonscame almost as a relief. Peroen and Yslie didn’t have the connections needed to find answers among the court. Pianti and Qilar were no longer welcome after the part they played in the revolution. But maybe a meeting with his father would give Peroen the answers they needed.
At the very least, it would distract him from the fact that Yslie wasn’t in the palace that afternoon. In only a few short days, he had grown used to spending almost all his free time with her. He still saw the other oracles during their designated portrait sessions, but the afternoons and evenings? Those he no longer spent alone. Today, however, Pianti had claimed Yslie for a gathering among the elementals. Peroen had been gently, but firmly, told his presence wouldn’t help for that meeting.
So, Peroen trekked from the nearly forgotten wing of the palace that housed his rooms, studio, and several storerooms over to the bustling area where his father spent his days. The room they were to meet in was set apart from the large chambers used by the court. A place for the Emperor to assert his will without being observed. The location told Peroen this wouldn’t be a simple scolding or tirade over his sudden interest in politics. If his father wanted to yell at him, he would have done so in front of the court.
Peroen was the first to arrive. For a moment, he considered taking the single seat in the room and forcing his father to stand. But he knew better. Such a petty move would only make things worse. The Emperor might no longer have Qilar in his service, but he still had men who wouldn’t hesitate to toss Peroen to the floor if he dared to claim what amounted to a throne.
Instead of sitting, he crossed his ankles and leaned against the wall perpendicular to the door. He was done letting his father cow him. If Peroen could mingle with Assembly members, dealing with them on his own terms, then he could face the Emp—Envaho.
Qilar was right. The title gave his father too much power.
Long minutes passed before the door opened. No doubt Peroen was supposed to have spent the time working himself into a lather, wondering what his father would do or say to him this time.
A guard came in, then Lhashiki, then Envaho. His father noticed Peroen’s nonchalant pose and glared as he made his way to the miniature throne. Lhashiki waved the guard back out of the room, ensured the door was latched, and went to stand at her customary place behind Envaho’s left shoulder.
Silence reigned, but it was Peroen’s father who became more uncomfortable the longer it did.
“You will marry Odela,” he finally barked without preamble.
“No.” It took effort to keep his shoulders loose, his posture relaxed.
“This is not a choice.”
“Actually, it is. I have four oracles to choose from. I am not required to marry Odela.”
“The choice isn’t yours. I am the Emperor. I say you will marry Odela.”
Peroen shrugged and discovered that he actually was calm. There was no subtlety in his father. This was a direct clashof wills, and for the first time, Peroen had the will to defy him. “I’d tell you to take it up with the Assembly, but they’ve already considered taking away my choice. Considered, and then abandoned the idea, once they realized they didn’t have the votes to pass the motion. The choice is still mine.” That was a slight exaggeration. The Assembly could still decide to vote on that measure, but it was looking less and less likely. Of course, if they told him to marry Odela—or anyone other than Yslie—Peroen wouldn’t listen. He’d accept the consequences for his defiance, but no matter what, he had made his choice.
“Remember who you are talking to,” Lhashiki warned in a silken voice. Her beauty and apparent delicateness might fool others, but Peroen knew the First of the Emperor’s Will was no wilting flower.
But neither was she a physical threat. Without the guards in the room, only words would be sharpened at this meeting. And Peroen was done letting Envaho and his sycophants sharpen them on him.
“I remember.” He pushed off the wall. “I’m talking to a man who no longer has power. What did Odela promise you, Father? A future that was a return to the past? Do you really think she’ll do anything to give you power if you make her the next empress?”
“The power is already mine,” Envaho roared. “The Assembly will crumble and everyone will remember that!”
“If the power were yours, it wouldn’t matter if the Assembly crumbled.” Peroen moved to the door. “You put yourself in this position. Now you must live with it.”
He didn’t wait for a response, wrenching the door open. The guard on the other side didn’t react when he stepped into the hall. He had orders to keep people out, not to keep Peroen in.
Peroen made his escape before his father recovered from the shock of being disobeyed and ordered the guard to stop him. Hedidn’t return to his studio, instead leaving the palace altogether. He’d go to Pianti and Qilar’s house. They’d want to hear about this meeting as soon as possible.
All he truly cared about, though, was seeing Yslie.
???
“Peroen!” Yslie raninto the courtyard the moment she saw him. He met her halfway, his kiss just shy of being too much for a space that not only wasn’t private, but also wasn’t theirs.
“I missed you,” he whispered as he pulled back.
She smiled for the first time all afternoon. “It has only been a few hours since we saw each other.”
“I know. Far too long.”