Garden of Embers: Beneath Devouring Eyes #2

Chapter 4, Part A

"I am not sure if I believe in the Eternal Radiance or not. But I can say with confidence that I do not believe for an instant that a divine hand shaped the land, set the Trellis in the sky, or placed magic in our veins. If I am going to give my faith to a holy being, that being must be worthy of my devotion, and if the Divine Light created this mess, then it is either foolish or cruel. If the people call me the Princeps Blasphemer because of my stance, then so be it; I accept the title with far more pride than the one I was so cruelly given."

-- Altivolus Adurere
11th Princeps Worldholder,
from A Garden of Fragrant Heresies

*~*~*~*

People were always telling him that he needed to practice his breathing to avoid an apoplexy. But he didn't have a bloody anger management problem. He had a people management problem. He had a disobedient, frustrating friends and family problem. If Valens, Arbita, and now Edera would just do as he said without delay or complaint, Cerasus would be the most serene man on Aquarius.

He waved a hand, cutting off the younger lifeholder's excited prattle. "Hush, Daughter." Eternal Radiance preserve him, there were so many important things to deal with today, and this wasn't one of them.

"Don't you hush me." His little pride and joy glared at him. She would look far more fierce if she had not dyed her hair that adorable pink. "We need to talk about this."

They did not need to talk about it now, of all times. They were sitting together in the Collegium's front courtyard, overseeing the delivery, sorting, and departure of emergency supplies to the hardest-hit areas of the provincia. The hard chair beneath his rear was dreadfully uncomfortable. He hated sitting around doing nothing, but he needed to be a good example to his daughter and heir. A Praetor did not participate in manual labor, even if he'd once wandered the wilds with his best friend before becoming such. A Praetor supervised.

Cerasus shook his head at Edera, resisting the urge to pat her atop her short wavy locks. She was too old for such gestures now, much as he hated to admit that she was growing up. This conversation was an awkward reminder of that fact. And an ill-timed one. "We have far more important things to do than talk about your marriage prospects, Edera. We have a clean-up to oversee."

She flicked him an annoyed glance, a miffed look she inherited more from Cerasus's lover Ros than from him or her mother. "Yes, and shouldn't my marriage prospect be here, helping with the clean-up?" She glanced at the Pyrrhaei servants loading barley and water rations into large shipping containers bound for cities where the Trellis malfunction had damaged greenhouses, aqueducts, and storehouses. "Not gallivanting around in Vola Apertus?" She frowned thoughtfully, little nose scrunching up in that way that always reminded him of his sister Arbita. "And how did he get there so fast? It's a twelve-hour trip and I saw him at the wedding ten hours ago."

His heart pounded, not in irritation this time but fear. Eternal Radiance, this child was going to give him a stroke. "Stop looking him up in the Compendium, Daughter." He could think of few things more dangerous than what she was nosing around in now. Eyes devour, if his suspicions about who and what Domi was were true, anyone who knew that dangerous truth could be in enormous trouble if the Rex discovered the boy's identity and decided to punish anyone who knew about him.

Not that Cerasus knew for sure something like that would happen. He had no idea what the punishment would be for knowing about and not reporting the existence of a twin Princeps Worldholder. But he doubted it would be anything good. The best protection against such a fate was to look the other way so as to learn nothing and know nothing, at least until matters sorted themselves out.

Edera frowned at him in confusion. "You're the one who said to 'keep an eye on this one, Pa. Well, I have my eye on him and I like what I see." She smiled, a look far too cunning for a child her age. That was an expression she had inherited from her mother, no doubt about it. "Do you know he's gone up in rank again? Way, way up. He's higher than Valens now and equal to me. You know what that has to mean--"

He deeply regretted ever showing her the latest update to her list of conjugal matches. She'd been dismayed at first to see Domi listed among them, but it had not taken her long to grow intrigued. And calculating. She had more of a political mind than he had possessed at her tender age and she clearly saw the advantage of a marriage to a high-ranking boy. And Cerasus suspected the mystery surrounding Domi's origins appealed to her young mind every bit as much as the boy's handsome face and high rank held her attention.

When had his little girl turned into a young woman? It seemed like she was playing in puddles just yesterday and now she was eyeing boys as marriage prospects?

"We don't have time for this, Daughter," he said, as much to spare himself from having to think about it any longer as to redirect her attention to the emergency response they were overseeing.

She went on as though he had not spoken, her eyes unfocused and a low thrum surrounding her. She was looking the sewer-rat-turned-royal up in the Compendium. Again. "He has to be some Praetor's son. Maybe even a relative of one of the Principia. He would not be this high-ranking otherwise, with no training."

Cerasus reached for the promenia she was using and claimed it, scattering the particles a moment later as her annoyed gaze met his own. "Daughter, I will say this once, and only once. And I say it as your Praetor, not just your father and aedificans." He jabbed a finger at her. "Stop looking into his whereabouts. Stop looking at him in the Compendium." His eyes narrowed. He hated being stern with her, but what she was doing must cease, and quickly, for her own sake and the sake of Provincia Sicarii. "And Eyes devour, say nothing of what you have discovered. Nothing of your theories. Not to anyone."

The seriousness in his voice got her attention at last. And not in the way he'd hoped. She blinked, looking intrigued. "Why? Do you know something?"

"No. And neither do you." He shook his head. "And you'll keep it that way if you hope he'll continue being a marriage prospect." And not end up dead somewhere, thrown secretly in an unmarked grave or perhaps executed in a public spectacle to give the people someone on which to focus their anger and blame for all of today's destruction. "You know nothing, do you hear me?"

"So you think, all things considered, he might still be a good conjugal match?" she asked tentatively.

He snorted. "Either the best or the worst." If the boy survived rose to power openly, he could be a very fine match indeed. Later. "Time will tell. For now, leave it be and attend to your duty."

She tapped her finger on the armrest, lips quirking. "Marriage is one of my duties."

"Edera--" He could feel his pulse pounding in his temple as his face heated.

"Fine, fine." She rolled her eyes. "You need to practice your breathing before you give yourself an aneurysm, you sourpuss."

Cerasus gritted his teeth and forced himself to watch in regal silence as servants loaded the last barrel of barley into the shipping container while he strove for patience.

He didn't need to practice his breathing. He needed to deal with the mess his unwanted, potentially-royal curia member seemed to have caused. Preferably while keeping his family, curia, and provincia out of trouble.

"Yes, Daughter," he grumbled. "If you do as I say, I will take your advice under consideration."

Edera snorted but thankfully did not bring the matter up again.