Garden of Embers: Beneath Devouring Eyes #2

Chapter 6, Part B

Domi did not know what to make of palace life.

"It is not really palace life, Basilicus," Bellus told him after the mindholder and Peritia finished using training trances to coach Domi through Brightening and the rains that first day after his fever relented. "It's... solitude life."

"What's that?" Domi asked and grimaced as the sound of a cleared throat drifted out of the sauna shadows. "What is that?"

He hated Comitas already, even just three days after meeting his annoying nag of a stalker. Even Bellus shortened words like Domi did, and Domi thought he remembered the Rex himself using contractions during public observances, so he didn't know where Comitas got the idea that he sounded uneducated if he said "what's" or "I'll" instead of "what is" or "I will".

"Right now, Basilicus, you're registered in the Compendium as undertaking the Rite of Solitude," Bellus explained as Domi tried to stand still and not squirm or fidget. He didn't understand either why he needed Peritia's help slipping his paenula back in place over his tunica now that he'd brought Brightening and the rains. Comitas said it was undignified for a Princeps to dress himself, but wasn't it more undignified to have people put his clothes on him like some bratty babe in clouts? "And while you are in solitude, you won't have as many duties as you will during a normal day here in the palace."

"Yeah, what kind of duties?" He corrected himself even before he heard Comitas's cleared throat. "Yes, I mean. Eter--erm."

Hedera had made him stay in bed all day yesterday, and Comitas used the opportunity to provide Domi with a list of "one hundred words to eliminate from your vocabulary, Basilicus" to study while he rested. "Yeah" and "taking the Eternal Radiance's name in vain" were both high on the list.

He was pretty sure the protocol handler was the real Princeps here, not him. All she or anyone else did so far was tell him what to do.

"Well," Bellus said as Peritia straightened Domi's paenula with one more tug, "there are your sorcerous duties, your religious duties, your political duties, and as you are still a child, your educational duties, Basilicus."

Domi didn't like the sound of that. Weren't royals supposed to lounge around on thrones all day, lording it over others? All that stuff sounded like work.

And the reference to religious duties made his heart pound in his chest, causing the Trellis to flash a hazy gold above the clouds and the misty rain. The looming Cultus sermon was only four days away and he certainly was no better at writing or reading just because he now lived in a palace.

"I'm not a child," he said, more to push the nerve-wracking thought of the approaching sermon aside than because he truly disagreed.

Peritia chuckled. "Best of luck convincing anyone of that until you're Valens's age, Basilicus," she said, taking one last critical look at his clothing before nodding in satisfaction. "When most Lightholders live as long as the Rex, everyone sees youth as childhood."

Domi frowned at the weird statement, nodding his thanks to Bellus as the man opened an umbrella and handed it to him. "How old is the Rex?" The man was ancient, probably in his eighties. Most Pullati died by sixty at best. It seemed unfair.

"One hundred fifty this year."

Domi could only stare at her, earning a confused look in return. "I'm sorry," he said, sure he must have misheard. He ignored Comitas's swift correction. If she wanted to nag, she could stop lurking in shadows. "Can you repeat that?"

"One hundred fifty?" Peritia asked, puzzled. She studied his widening eyes. "What is it, Basilicus?"

"Is it because Princeps Oliva helps him?" he asked. Eyes devour, it must be magic, or the Rex would be a withered corpse atop the throne.