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And after six years of struggle, those stripes would soon be filled.
“Tragic business,” said Aurelius. “The herald of Mestibes murdered? Washed ashore all the way out in Zateniza?”
“I hear that if not for the half-melted signet ring, they may never have identified her.”
“What is Dynosia coming to when a crown’s representative becomes fair game?”
“Well, what do you expect? The Rinathi wouldn’t know honor if it sucked their cocks. What shocked me was that she was up there at all. The archon can send her sad little pet wherever she likes, but I thought Ura was still up in Ardora, groveling to those ungrateful goatfuckers.”
“Indeed,” said Aurelius, noncommittedly. Truthfully, he hadn’t known of the herald’s redeployment either. But it never paid to advertise one’s ignorance.
“And so,” said Domenin, with a knowing smirk, “all of Mestibes asks: who will the archon chose as her new representative to the backwards polities?”
“Don’t play coy, Domi. I’ve barely seen a senator around town since the body was returned. I doubt you’ve been conferencing on the price of Ondocian silk.”
“My, my. Can it really be? Aurelius Savair, out of the gossip loop?”
“Even I can’t read minds.”
“Well,” said Domenin, smugly, “the subject of the new herald may have come up in our private conferencing, Aurie. Informally of course. But it would be most improper for a humble senator to speculate on such things here—it being entirely a decision for the archon. I wouldn’t dream on stepping on the crown’s toes, just as she wouldn’t dream of stepping on the senate’s.”
Up to the dais, a younger and infinitely less handsome version of Aurelius, with the gall to have two solid stripes on his toga, slithered among the powerful. “Of course, Domi. Or course. But should the new herald come from within your own ranks—Benedict, for example—you would surely have heard the whispers. After all, it would be the senate that elects his replacement for House Savair.”
“On nomination by the head of the vacancy’s house, Aurie.”
“Indeed.”
Domenin snorted. “After all that has happened, you can’t possibly think your mother would nominate you as your brother’s replacement in the senate?”
Aurelius smiled. Six years ago, when the archon had dealt him the ultimate betrayal, she probably thought that way too—despite him being her eldest child, with the position as one of the two senators of House Savair, alongside Grandmother Varena, rightfully being his.
But now?
No, he was far too powerful now.
He knew too many secrets of too many people for her to deny his return. Six years of scraping and scheming and screwing had ensured that. And bitch that she was, his mother was no fool.
The balance between the senate and the archon, a barely contained war of ideas and morals and good old-fashioned power, even at the best of times, was more perilous now than ever before. She could either keep him as an enemy on the outside, or she could bring him back into the family fold, installing him into the senate in the hopes his influence might help tame those power-hungry sods.
“Oh yes,” said Aurelius with a chuckle. “I am quite certain she will.”
“Well, I admire your confidence. But of course, if she chooses your uncle as the new herald, it will all be moot. The city would lose a respected philosopher, but your brother would remain with us. There’d be no senate vacancy. No place for little Aurie to slip into.”
“Please. Uncle Balser is a fool.”
“Perhaps your mother would prefer a loyal fool in her name, rather than a disloyal child in her senate?”
“You speak with confidence, Domi?”
The boy looked to the bronze faces overhead, towering ten times their own height. “My lips are sealed.”
Aurelius smiled. He always appreciated someone who understood the value of a proper transaction. It was a rare trait in this city—particularly from a senator, with their stiff upper lips and obsession with piety toward the goddess.
“Very well,” said Aurelius, waving his hand expansively, sweeping his arm high and slow for all the watching eyes. “Take your pick.”
Domenin leaned in. “What have you heard... about Erato?”
“Erato?” said Aurelius, sneaking a glance to the curly-haired mercator a few rows behind them. The big-nosed idiot was too thick to even notice he was the subject of attention.
