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Isana arched an eyebrow as she turned toward the door and smoothed her dress. Whatever the Senate decided, they would send a representative to bring her before them—but her senses told her that Araris’s usual steady calm was shaken to one degree or another. The Senate’s choice in escorts would say much about the outcome of the debate.

“Thank you, Araris. Please send him in.”

Isana wasn’t sure whom she had been expecting, but Aquitainus Attis hadn’t been featured on her mental list. The High Lord entered, resplendent in scarlet and black, though he had affixed the official Crown heraldry for the House of Gaius, the scarlet-and-azure eagle, to his tunic’s breast. His dark golden hair was immaculate, even weighted down by the slender steel circlet of the Aleran crown, and his dark eyes were as intense and focused as every other time Isana had seen the man.

Aquitaine bowed his head politely, if very slightly. “Lady,” he murmured.

“Lord Aquitaine,” Isana replied, holding her tone to neutrality. “What an unexpected…” She smiled, faintly. “… visit.”

“The timing was important. With all the Senators in chambers, their informants are neglecting their duties. I would speak with you alone if you are willing.”

“You are a married man, sir,” Isana replied, with no trace of accusation anywhere in the phrase. It was considerably more damning that way, she thought. “I think it would be highly inappropriate.”

“In truth,” Aquitaine replied, “I have already certified my divorce from Invidia, effective as of today.”

“What a terrible burden has been lifted from your shoulders,” Isana said.

Aquitaine inhaled slowly, through his nose, and exhaled the same way. Isana felt the faintest trace of frustration from the man. It was rapidly walled away behind a metalcrafting.

“I would prefer,” Aquitaine said, “to have this discussion privately.”

Isana regarded him as though waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“Please,” Aquitaine added, his voice not quite a growl.

Veradis cleared her throat, and said, “I will wait outside, my lady.”

“As you wish,” Isana said. “But Araris stays with me.”

Araris came through the door at a pace that suggested he’d begun moving before Isana had finished the sentence. He held it open for Veradis, then closed it behind her as she left.

Aquitaine smiled. “You don’t trust me, lady?”

Isana smiled at him and did not answer.

Aquitaine let out a brief, rather harsh laugh. “There are few who would behave in such a manner toward me, Isana, and with good reason. I do not regard myself as an unreasonable man, but neither do I react well to discourtesy and disrespect.”

“If you were the First Lord,” she replied, “that might be a problem. But you aren’t.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t I?”

“Not yet,” Isana said in a tone that stopped just short of being belligerent. She met the man’s eyes calmly for a full minute of silence, then dropped her voice into a more conversational register. “Unless the Senate has already told you how the outcome of the hearing would fall out, I suppose.”

Aquitaine shook his head and responded in kind. “Valerius, of course, assures me that it will all happen precisely the way he intends. Lamentably, I am aware of the value of such promises.”

She gave him another sharp look, and his mouth spread into a leonine smile. “You thought I’d come here to gloat over your dismissal, lady?”

“The possibility had occurred to me,” she admitted.

He shook his head. “I don’t have the time to waste on such a petty gesture.”

“Then why have you come?”

Aquitaine crossed to the room’s sideboard and poured wine from a bottle into a waiting glass. He took it up and swirled it lazily around the inside of the glass. “The Senators are, of course, in a frenzy. They sense a chance to reduce the powers of the office of First Lord, despite the ugly realities before us. And, if they have their way—and Alera survives, of course—then they will succeed. And we already saw what happens after a weakening of the office of the First Lord of Alera. Regardless of how things play out in the future, you and I have a common interest in defending it.”

Isana studied him as he cautiously took a sip of wine. Then she said, “Let’s assume for a moment that I agree. What are you proposing?”

“Marriage,” Aquitaine said calmly.

Isana found herself sitting in a chair with no clear recollection of how she had gotten there. She just stared at Aquitaine while her lips took their time to form her next words, as a flash of blazing-hot, blindly jealous rage flashed forth from Araris, who stood rock-still with his back to the door. He bottled it quickly, moving one hand to the hilt of his sword as he did, but all the same that single searing surge of emotion left Isana feeling off-balance, as if she’d come out of a dark cellar to stare directly into the sun. After a moment, she managed to choke out a few words. “Are you insane?”

Aquitaine’s teeth flashed again. “It’s an insane line of work,” he responded. “But it actually is a viable solution. I would retain the crown, with the line of succession passing to your son upon my death or retirement. And, given the nature of our relationship, his personal safety would become my responsibility, lest I lose the respect of the Citizenry for not being able to protect my own heir.”

“And what about your children?” Isana asked.

“I have none,” Aquitaine replied. “None of which I am aware, in any case—and I certainly have no legitimate heirs. And since your watercrafting will enable you to control completely whether or not I do manage to sire a legitimate heir, you can choose never to bear me children—in which case Octavian ascends smoothly to the Crown when he is older, wiser, and more ready to lead the Realm.”

Isana narrowed her eyes in thought. “Of course,” she said, “if something should happen to me, you would be free to take another wife. In that event, the child she bore you would have a claim upon the throne—a claim blocked by my son.”

Aquitaine let out a rueful chuckle. “Invidia was ever an artist of treachery,” he said. “I see that you did not survive your association with her by happy accident.”

“Additionally,” Isana continued, “how could you ever be certain that I was not plotting to remove you, once your guard was down?”

“Because you won’t,” Aquitaine said simply. “You aren’t that kind of person.”

“The kind of person willing to kill to protect her child?”

“The kind who stabs another in the back,” he said. “You’d be looking into my eyes. I can live with that.”

Isana just stared at the man. Aquitaine, to her, had always been simply the male counterpart of Invidia, a partner in her ruthless political enterprises. She would never have guessed that he might be the sort to understand that not every person was plotting against all the others, capable of murder and treachery when it provided enough gain. Though perhaps it should have come as no surprise. Invidia had been capable of seeing fidelity in others, an essential core of… of honor, Isana supposed, that made their word worth more than a few seconds of warm breath.

She had certainly exploited that trait in Isana.

“Tell me,” Isana said. “What possible reason I could have to pursue this plan instead of supporting the lawful succession of the Realm?”

“Three reasons,” he responded without pause. “First, because doing so would obviate the need for the current struggle in the Senate, pulling the teeth of the various Senators involved. Valerius has driven this conflict forward predicated on the notion that this is a time of war and we need an immediate, settled chain of command. Our union would steal Valerius’s thunder, prevent the Senate from gathering into separate factions over the issue, and avoid setting a dangerous precedent of the Senate dictating terms to the office of the First Lord.”