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The famous fiend, Marius au Raa. I knew him when he studied at the Politico Academy on Luna as a hostage. I remember him a boy of thirteen, quiet, resentful of the parties and as disdainful of his peers as they were of him. I duck my head, worried he might recognize me.
He does not.
His eyes linger a moment, then pass on, absorbing us all as he ignores his sister and brother to exchange a few hushed words with Pandora.
When Romulus has sealed his razor’s casing again, he breathes a long, sonorous note of air from his nose. Marius touches his shoulder. “Father, they’ve arrived.”
“And they’ve brought gahja,” Romulus says.
When he finally looks up, I am struck by his gaze. The left eye is missing. In its place is a smooth globe of blue marble. Romulus eases himself to his feet and greets his son Diomedes. The younger man must bend at the waist so that their foreheads touch in their fashion. “Son.” He turns to Pandora. “Pandora, you have done well. Please.”
She nods stiffly and rises from her deep bow. “Only my duty, my liege.”
He smiles at his sister, Vela. “The Ghost never changes.”
“I would not know what to do if she did.”
“Thank you, Pandora.” Romulus sets his hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could tell the Moon Council what you have done. The Rim’s greatest servant deserves more than just my meager thanks.”
She nods obediently. Before her master, gone is the hound, replaced by a pup. The adoration is shared by Diomedes and the rest. I feel it seeping into me. Only Cassius seems immune. His eyes rove for some means of escape, as I should be doing.
At last Romulus comes before Seraphina, who kneels, her shaven head bowed, her eyes fixed on the ground. Her father lifts her chin and kisses her on the brow. “Seraphina. My burning one. How I missed you.”
“Father.” She looks up at him with absolute love on her fierce face. “I didn’t know if I would see you again.” Has anyone ever looked at me with such love? He presses his forehead against hers. After a moment, he pulls back and looks at us.
“You bring gahja.”
“They’re friends,” Seraphina says. “I was set upon by Ascomanni….”
“I heard,” Romulus says, sparing a look to Pandora. “Let me see their hands.”
With the help of the guards, our hands are shown to him; he looks down at our palms. “You are not Scarred. So why do you both have the calluses only a life with a razor could give?”
Diomedes glowers down at us, as do the others.
“My name is Regulus au Janus. We’re water traders. I was once a warrior by necessity,” Cassius admits. “I never earned a scar; my family wasn’t well placed enough to earn me admission into the Institute. But I served Augustus, as all our family have. When my home was taken by the Rising, I picked up a razor and fought…until Mars was lost, then I fled with my brother, Castor.”
“So you accepted exile over death,” Romulus says. “I see.”
He looks back to his daughter. Cassius glances at me to make sure I continue my silence. “Why did you not tell me where you went, child?” Romulus asks his daughter.
“Would you have let me go?”
“No. When you disappeared…I thought you had died. When I discovered that you went to the Interior…”
“You wish I had?”
The words wound him. “No…” Vela and Marius seem to disagree. “I would have moved the worlds to bring you home.”
“But instead you sent your dog to hunt me down,” Seraphina says. “She killed Hjornir. Hjornir, Father. You’ve known him since he was a child. You taught him how to hunt. All he ever wanted was to serve Gold, and that bitch pulled out his teeth.”
“He was a slave who disobeyed his master,” Romulus says.
“Did you tell her to torture him?” Her voice softens. “Did you?”
“I did,” Marius says from behind his father.
“You?” Seraphina hisses. “Of course it was you.”
