That was as near as an Emperor could come to an apology.
“I heard you were unwell,” Laud replied, glancing back at him. “I hope it was nothing serious.”
“I am well enough.” The doors of the office closed behind them and for a moment Bastin hesitated, the words hovering on the tip of his tongue as he looked at the other man. It was Laud. Bluff, brawling Laud was honest as few noblemen were, and shrewd enough to arrange matters so that he could be.
Was Laud truly his friend? Could he really confide in him, and trust that it would not be repeated?
“Divinity?”
“What I say must go no further than this room.” Bastin selected a chair and sat in it.
“Of course,” Laud said in surprise, sitting with obvious disquiet. “Do you require an oath of secrecy?”
He was joking. Bastin was not.
“Yes.”
Laud gave it, with all the ceremony and careful phrasing that one might wish. But even as he spoke the ritual words, it just reminded Bastin of all theotheroaths that had been sworn to him, even swornonhim. Bastin Agnephus, the Divinity, was an object upon which to hang an oath.
“…until death takes me, or the Divinity himself should free me to speak,” Laud concluded, and looked at him expectantly.
“I hate my wife.”
This was not a secret. Everyone in the Empire knew it.
“I want to divorce her,” Bastin went on, gripping the arms of his chair. “Iwilldivorce her, no matter what it takes.”
“Radiance,” Laud began sympathetically. “There is no such thing as divorce under heaven. You exchanged sacred, eternal oaths. The Temple sanctified your union. In the eyes of the stars—”
“I am their Beloved,” Bastin snapped. “I am sacred. I am their son, the Divinity, if anyone may speak for them, it is I. The stars know that I was forced—forced to make those oaths. I was never joined to her willingly,never,not once. It cannot be this way. This cannot be acceptable, I cannot—”
His voice was rising, and he cut himself off.
“You have seen how my Temple regards me,” he said, trying to be calm. “If I am sacred, how can it be the will of the stars for their son to be bound again and again against his will? How could it be the will of the stars for their scions, the rulers of the Empire, to be made slaves to the Temple and House Melun?”
“I cannot fathom the will of the stars,” Laud said carefully, troubled. “I agree that it cannot be good for the Empire for our Emperor to be…treated that way. Whether by Melun or anyone else. I do believe that.”
How pathetic, that Bastin mustarguefor that position. That so many of his lords would disagree.
His chest was tight.
“I have never truly…felt that I was sacred,” Bastin replied, low. “I do not know what I am…supposedto feel. They said my father was sacred. The clerics prayed in his name and collected money in his name and trotted him out to the crowds and when they had squeezed all the blood from him, they sold what was leftto Melun. How could they do that, if they really believed he was sacred?”
They had sold Bastin himself to House Melun, too. He had made it his business to discover what had happened to his father. Emperor Onsetin Agnephus’s priests had taken money to leave him on his sickbed with Duke Dardot Melun. For three days, servants and priests had ignored the shouting from the Emperor’s chambers, leaving the sick man trapped until he agreed to betroth his son to Esmene Melun. He had died shortly after.
Had he too heard the bells of the Eternal Vigil?
And had Bastin’s own clerics sold him again? he wondered suddenly. Had Esmene paid them to allow her into his palace?
“Maybe that is the trouble,” he whispered, more to himself than to Laud. “I have not believed myself sacred. Why should anyone else?”
“Radiance?”
“I will undo this marriage.” Bastin drew himself up in his chair. “To do that, my Temple must be brought to heel. If I am sacred, I willbesacred. I will make them bow their necks to me. If I have the strength to do that, that will be enough. Will you help me?”
“Of course,” Laud said slowly, and rose at a knock at the door without taking his eyes from Bastin. He had the Ereguil eyes, cinnamon-brown and sharp as a raptor’s. “That will be the wine. I feel we will need it.”
Bastin would never drink wine again without a moment’s misgiving, but he sipped from his glass and felt it burn in his gut, a manifestation of the fury that would be with him for the rest of his life.
