AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And while Mother brushed aside Teigra’s curiosity, just telling her to be on her best behavior, House Cosmin had never had the privilege of dining in such grand company.
And the family certainly had no bachelor son to throw at her.
Is... is it finally happening? What Father dreamed of for so long?
Was House Cosmin about to be elevated to patrician status?
She barely dared to hope. But, after all, what other reason could there possibly be?
The residence of House Scipio was beautiful, with manicured cypress pines and staggering white sculptures that bubbled water into crystal pools. She remained silent at the dinner of mint and pomegranate lamb—the meat prepared simply, but more tender than any she’d ever eaten.
Maintaining that silence became hard when the room filled with mockery of the archon and House Savair. Jaronas and Mother laughing at the perversion of her cousin and his obvious unsuitability as herald.
As their cackles clawed across her face, she ran her thumb slowly down her pendant, resisting the urge to defend her extended family.
Hold my tongue, Da. We are so close!
She was well versed in the tension between the archon and the senate, though she could never understand it. Surely, they all worked for the same cause? For the glory of Mesti and her people?
And yet, whenever Aunty Ura had spoken of the senate’s envoys, she would first peer over her shoulder, as if one might be lurking in the shadows.
And even though Mother was the archon’s youngest sister, and the youngest daughter of Grandfather Harophonies, she always went out of her way to deny her blood—sucking up to senators and patricians instead.
And as for Aurelius? Well, his behavior might not be the best service to the goddess, but there was a good person beneath his reputation. He had always been there for her. He hadn’t chosen to be the way he was. And he deserved so much better than how people spoke of him.
“And so, Teigra, I hear you fancy your history?” said the censor, a tall man with deep wrinkles around his eyes.
She almost dropped her glass. The table fell silent, turning expectantly.
“Me?” she coughed.
Mother gave a warm laugh and jammed a fingernail into her back, grinding right near one of her half-healed scars. “Poor thing is just a little shy around her betters, Censor. An important trait these days.”
“Indeed, Senator Cosmin. But there is no need to stand on ceremony, Teigra. I am also a history buff. Man cannot improve if he is ignorant of his past.”
“No, Censor,” said Teigra.
“And you spend a lot of your time in the Lapiso Library?” said the censor’s daughter, Senator Chloe Scipio, a young woman barely older than she. Her ample assets jiggled as she tossed a piece of leftover meat to a keen-eyed celestial strix, the first Teigra had seen in real life—black as a sable sky, and with a scattering of iridescent indigo that made the bird’s feathers twinkle like starlight. The woman had a noble bearing far beyond her family name, with eyes that made Teigra’s mouth go dry, and her heart beat a little quicker. “You visit there every morning before dawn, I’m told?”
“Yes... ?”
“How admirable,” said the censor. “Reading the great history of our city while others are still sleeping. Please, enlighten us, what is your favorite work?”
She shot a confused look to Mother. She’d always said it was improper to discuss the education her father had started. She’d said that having too many thoughts and opinions would repulse the young men she needed to pursue.
“Come now, Teigra,” said Mother, her smile bright below dark eyes. “We mustn’t leave the censor in suspense.”
“A... A Nation United,” she muttered, blushing under the weight of the table’s attention. “The complete history of the Third Dynosian War and the signing of the Compact of the Grove.”
It wasn’t entirely true. She loved that codex, yes, but Gods Among Us was her actual favorite. But frothy stories about therian mischief hardly seemed the right answer at this table.
The censor smiled. “Ah, a noble work. And which of its many stories do you favor?”
“The one about Grandfather Harophonies,” she said, a little too quickly. “For the sacrifices he made as our last military general. And for the restraint he showed in not allowing the other polities to massacre the Rinathi into extinction.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake. By selecting that chapter, she was praising House Savair and the current line of archons!
You idiot! Why didn’t you pick a hero from the senate? Or a tale of glory from House Scipio? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
