Relucia watches me, then sighs. Starts walking again. “One day, Vis, you’ll see. But for now? I really just wanted to let you know that Lanistia will be safe.”
I follow her. An ember of hope suddenly burning, almost against my will, given the source. “What do you mean?”
“The shifts will be more chaotic tonight. It’s been arranged.”
I exhale. She means it. At least, I can’t see why she would lie about this. “Why?”
Her look says I know the answer.
I nod. I’m not going to thank her. Lanistia escaping will cause more political instability, doubtless how she was able to justify it. But I make sure the motion is grateful.
Something loosens in her shoulders, despite her tirade. She really wanted me to know.
Sunset is burning its way into the ground as we round a corner and emerge into the vast Catenan Forum. Encased on all sides by columns and statues and grand temples. The brightly glowing Aurora Columnae towering at its head, chained off and guarded. In theory this is a holiday where rank is ignored, where Octavii can mingle with Quartii and neither should even know. But I can already see Praetorians lining the base of the stairs near the massive obelisk,moving quickly to stop anyone approaching who looks as though they may not belong.
Unlike the rest of the city, the remainder of the massive space is heaving with people. Tables of food. Drink flows freely and yet the mood is almost unbearably tense, a grim fog blanketing it all. There are performers, actors and jugglers and spectacular displays of Will, but few pay them any real attention. It is boisterous and muted. Crowded and loud and as far from celebration as it can be.
Abruptly less crowded, though, once those closest to us catch sight of Diago.
I restrain a smirk as a few panicked shrieks pierce the general hubbub, the more easily startled of the attendees scrambling away from the alupi stalking into the Forum behind us. I pretend not to notice either that or the whispers that form our wake, allowing Relucia to cling to me.
“You have some admirers,” murmurs Relucia.
I follow her gaze and barely contain a curse. Some in the crowd—not many, but enough—have conspicuously dangling sleeves, left arms tucked discreetly beneath their cloaks. Not enough to fool anyone, but …vek. My lack continues to be my most recognisable feature, apparently.
I take a breath and ignore them, spotting Ulciscor halfway up the steps, just inside the line of Praetorians. Cloaked in deep golden light, talking to two others in hushed tones, but his gaze roves constantly and stops only when it settles on me. A look somewhere between rueful amusement and consternation as he makes some hurried excuses and moves to meet us.
“Let them through,” he says calmly to the Praetorian who was moving into our path; the man nods what I suspect is a relieved accession before stepping to the side again, one eye still on Diago’s prowling form. Ulciscor’s gaze lingers on the alupi as he ushers us farther in. “I told you not to bring him.” Ulciscor’s voice is low as he embraces his wife.
“He was rather insistent. And his pet made it harder to refuse.” She glares at me primly. As if I have brutishly forced her into this embarrassing situation.
“Then that was a poor decision, Vis. Even more so now.” No patience to Ulciscor’s rebuke. “Tonight was meant to be a gathering to discuss terms. A chance to talk outside the blustering of the Senate floor. But something is off. The Tertii and Dimidii from Military rushed off about thirty minutes ago and haven’t returned; no one knows why. People are starting to get nervous.” He eyes Diago again. “Go home.”
I can’t, of course, as much as I’d like to. “Give us a few minutes to mingle. To be seen. Perhaps at least we can show there’s no rift within the family. I know it won’t change much, but it might help.”
“And then the dear boy can walk me home,” adds Relucia, patting her husband’s arm.
“I think most people have already realised you’re here,” mutters Ulciscor, but he nods. Hesitates, then puts a hand on my shoulder. “Be careful, Vis. If things go wrong here tonight, it’s not something you’ll be able to think your way out of.”
I nod. Surprised, despite myself. Genuine care in his voice, and it would only benefit him for me to stay.
“Will a few minutes be enough?” I ask Relucia as we part from Ulciscor.
Her eyes rove the sea of people. “I’m sure if it’s not, you will come up with something.”
I turn my attention to the occupants of the upper level. Even here, people huddle in tight, familiar groups. Most are ignoring the entertainment. Not just actors and acrobats but three cages, lit by floating lanterns, reveal lions that prowl and snarl and snap at passersby. Some few partygoers are using Will to float scraps of meat almost within range of the creatures, only to snatch them away again at the last second to too-raucous, uneasy laughter.
Diago, as if as disgusted as I feel, growls at the sight.
“Rotting gods,” murmurs Relucia, disdain dripping from her tone as she watches the same thing. “Small men so desperate for power that they will take it from wherever they can. How did we get here?”
“By telling them it’s the only way to get it, and that it’s all that matters.” I lay a comforting hand on Diago’s head. His rumbling stills, though there’s a noticeably larger circle of space around us now.
“Hm.” Relucia eyes me. Nods. Seems about to say more, when her gaze flicks to over my shoulder and there’s suddenly a light touch on my arm, turning me.
“Vis.” Aequa is in a sleek blue stola that emphasises her form. Her raven hair is meticulously arranged, curled artfully at the front and plaited into an elaborate bun at the back.
I take a moment to say anything. I don’t think I’ve seen her dressed up since we travelled to the naumachia together. “Hail. You look nice.”
