What a miserable day this had been. Once again the little southern monkey's camp had gained supporters. Things could not go on like this. Absolutely not! If nothing changed, and soon, her little Pacha would be exiled. With how vicious and vengeful that southern monkey was, her precious boy might even be killed! Her own son, just like that! How dare he!
If only she had sent a proper assassin rather than believe in the words of that useless foreigner. Of course the servants of a merchant would be of no help, how could she ever have thought otherwise? Had she trusted her instincts, she could have solved the problem on the very first night already. Since then, the little bastard had been shielded by all manner of people, as the number of his allies increased day by day.
All the while, her own supporters had been less than helpful. Which was why she, Empress Mother Spuria Ichilia, had been forced to walk past cobwebs and dusty furniture, ever deeper into the bowels of the Ghost Yard.
After she had made the trek through the empty corridors, Spuria reached a door deep within the yard and opened it into a large room. Unlike all the other places she had passed, this one did not seem abandoned. A warm glow came from the coals in the four corners of the room. The large, open windows left a view onto what was left of the Ghost Yard after years of overgrowth, but of course the center piece of the room was the opulent bed, beautifully made up with expensive, purple drapes of silk cloth and expensive dark wood from the northern jungles.
If a stranger were to stumble in here, one would think that the room was possessed by the very ghosts the dim servants believed still roamed these halls, that the ghosts had returned the room back to the time when they were still alive. Of course, Spuria knew better. After all, she had been the one to fix up the bed chamber herself. And the man who waited for her in its center knew better as well.
"So you have e, Celis," she said. Her voice carried a softness which would shock anyone within the capital.
"What is it you want, Lady Ichilia?" Elder Caelestis replied in a cold voice.
"Oh, Celis. You don't like me any more?" She came up to her co-conspirator and moved in close, so she could take in those eyes of his. Those eyes she had lost herself in all those years ago.
"Enough! Away from me, viper!" the Elder shouted. In an attempt to push away his lover, push away reality, he ran over to the window and stared outside. Annoyed, Spuria uttered the lightest of sighs. So light in fact, that the elder could not possibly hear it.
This had always been her man's biggest problem. He would dare to do things, but wouldn't dare to stand up to his own deeds, his head always buried in the sand. It was her fault, really, that she had fallen for someone as weak as this. With quiet steps she came next to her man and put her hand on his shoulder. She leaned her body outside and into the cold air and turned her head so she could look at him before she continued. This was no time for a lover's quarrel. Rather, there were important questions to be asked.
"Only three more days until the Ancestral Hall meets up and that grandson of yours is gaining more and more votes from the estates. What do you intend to do about that?"
Caelestis still refused to face her. His profile just stared out into the darkness as he answered in a gloomy voice.
"There's nothing to do. You don't know about the kind of support Pacha has in the hall. No matter what Laqhis does, no matter how many lords he gathers, he will never be emperor."
"Nothing you can do, really? So how is the brat's search for his father's killer going? I hear you have provided some splendid support."
Spuria's words stung Caelestis like knives as he flinched back.
"...I have done all I need to. Laqhis won't gain anything useful from what he has been given. He won't find out anything. Just remember our agreement. No harm will e to Laqhis. Amautu as well. Once all of this is over, we'll just send them somewhere safe."
"You are awfully concerned for them, are you not? I begin to question your mitment. Don't you want your son to be emperor? Pacha has done whatever he could to please you, and yet, ever since that dark-skinned bastard has e back from the barbarian lands, you only spend your time with him."
Again the Elder sighed. It was all he had done since that favorite grandson of his had returned. Spuria knew the man as weak, as someone who could buckle under his own emotions at any moment. That he might ruin her plans. Thus, she made an important decision: She had to force his hand. If she needed to choose between her lover and their son, there wasn't a second choice but this.
"And lest you forget, Caelestis: I know what you did. You don't want anyone to find out about your other son, do you?"
"You..." His face turned red from anger and impotence, Caelestis finally turned his head to meet Spuria's gaze. As always, her eyes remained firm, but his swam around in panic. Spuria knew that in his head, he was weighing his options. Whether he should apologize, beg for mercy or simply kill her. She knew that he was weak, that he would never choose the latter, so she could safely twist the knife.
"I'll tell you now: If Pacha does not get nominated in three days, by the morning of the fourth all of Arguna will know just who killed my husband."
The Elder's eyes trembled. While he was still lost on how to react, his head shot up from between his shoulders and faced into the yard, without warning.
"Who!
Reviews
All reviews (0)