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Chrysanthos’s hand tightened on the letter box. “Whose life?”
“Yours. I don’t mean your survival. I mean the life to which you are accustomed.”
Cassia gestured at the mage’s chest. “Was it hard to leave the Dexion’s medallion behind when you came, after all you did to earn it?”
“I’ll live,” the Dexion snapped.
“You are clearly fond of the finer comforts of life.” Cassia lifted her goblet of Notian red from the table. “Your position certainly affords the best.”
“I can see the robes you wear mean more to you than luxury, though,” Lio said. “You wear them with pride.”
Cassia toasted the mage. “Surely nothing is more satisfying than to experience the gazes of those around you and know they look upon the third most powerful man in Corona. The future Synthikos. Perhaps even the future Akron.”
Chrysanthos bowed in his seat. “I see you have an appreciation for how dangerous a person you are toying with. Don’t forget it.”
“But what is left,” Cassia mused, “when the medallion and the robes and the admiring stares are taken away?”
“Magic, certainly,” Lio said, “but also the strictures that make it useless without the authority to use it. A man who has lost everything he thrives on. Hungry mouths to feed.”
Chrysanthos drew the box still closer. “You agreed to leave them out of this.”
Lio halted behind him. “But you didn’t. Every risk you take, you risk them. Every mistake you make, you hurt them. If you fall, they fall with you.”
“Do not lecture me on my responsibilities.”
“I understand responsibilities to your dependents. The rigor of duty. Obligations you must fulfill to secure your future and theirs.”
Cassia took a sip of her wine. “How much does admittance into the Aithourian Circle cost, really? A sum comfortable for your family to manage, I am sure.”
“But what about the cost you have continued to pay in the years since?” Lio asked. “How many promotions did you pay for in blood?”
They let a hush fall over the chamber.
Lio braced a hand on the table, leaning over the Dexion. “Hesperine blood. Your entries in the Order’s register of kills must be impressive indeed to have brought the medallion within your reach.”
Strange that the Dexion did not take this opportunity to boast. Had they struck a nerve? Lio touched his own medallion of office.
Cassia set her goblet down, and red wine splashed onto the white tablecloth. “When you began, did you know you would pay in human blood, as well?”
The Dexion did not reply.
“I understand weights on the conscience,” Lio said.
“There are those who stand in your way.” Now Cassia began to prowl on her side of the hall. “Something must be done about them. You may not have the luxury of time or knowing whether they deserve to die. It is you, or them, and you must make a choice.”
Lio paced in the shadows that ringed the table. “But did you imagine whose death you would one day carry on your heart?”
“Someone most worthy among your peers.” Cassia paused.
“Someone on the right side of the gods.” Lio drew alongside her.
Next to him, she faced Chrysanthos. “Someone who trusted you.”
“A brother,” Lio declared.
He felt the tremor that went through Chrysanthos’s aura, although the mage was still and silent without. Anger lashed out of the man’s heart, the kind that hid pain. Lio put his hands behind his back.
“We know you murdered Dalos,” Cassia said.
