Page 25 of Song of the Heart Scale
And at the apex of the crescent, seated like he belonged there, was Thorne.
My brother.
The self-crowned emperor.
His expression was unreadable, carved of stone and steel, with eyes colder than I remembered. He wore the imperial black with a crimson sash, the Drakonar crest shining at his throat. His hands rested on the armrests of the obsidian throne like he’d always known he would sit there.
Julian stood to his left with his arms crossed, his golden armor catching the light like a beacon. Just as arrogant as I’d been told, his smirk deepened the moment he spotted me.
“Well, well,” Julian drawled. “Look who decided to crawl out from his exile.”
The room turned in unison.
There were murmurs. Gasps. One of the ministers—an older woman in sea-blue robes I vaguely remembered as Lady Mirena of Ships—clutched her chest like she’d seen a ghost.
Thorne’s eyes slightly narrowed, but he didn’t move. “Brother.”
I gave a shallow bow. “Brother.”
That got a few murmurs.
Uncle Bai smoothly stepped forward. “Forgive the interruption. We came as soon as we were informed. We thought it wise to attend… given the gravity of the situation.”
Julian scoffed. “Bold of you to show your face here, Damien. You’re not even allowed to leave Obsidian Reach! Now that Father is dead, you think the rules and laws are gone with him?”
“Not exactly,” I answered evenly. “But I like to know when people are making world-altering decisions. Especially if they’ll impact me.”
Thorne waved a hand. “Let him stay. If nothing else, he’s earned the right to hear this.”
There was a pause, then begrudging nods from several ministers.
Lord Zacharia, seated near the right flank, said nothing. His face was unreadable, his hands steepled before him. I saw no flicker of surprise at my presence.
The discussion resumed, albeit with a lot more side-glancing.
I looked around the room, recognizing most of the faces, even if they hadn’t immediately recognized me. I didn’t walk the shadows for nothing. I made sure I knew everyone who was important.
“We cannot lie to the people,” said Lord Rolen, Minister of Finance. “If they find out we’ve concealed the emperor’s death, chaos will erupt in the streets!”
“And if we announce it before we’ve confirmed the cause?” snapped Lord Vauren, Minister of Defense. “Do you want panic? Riots? Accusations of treachery?”
“We don’t even know if it was natural causes!” cried Lady Mirena.
“Which is why,” said Lord Zacharia at last, “we need a careful, ceremonial statement. Not a confession. Not a eulogy. A transition. We tell them the emperor passed peacefully and the rites will be prepared immediately.”
“Of courseyou’dsay that,” Julian muttered. “Your daughter’s marriage hinges on the transition, doesn’t it?”
Lord Zacharia didn’t flinch. “My only concern is preserving the empire’s stability.”
Uncle Bai leaned toward me and murmured, “He’s more dangerous with a straight face than Julian with a sword.”
“I noticed,” I murmured back.
The arguing escalated again. Talk of poison. Talk of coronation. Talk of Thorne’s right to rule.
Through it all, Thorne remained silent. Watching. Measuring.
I stood there quietly, not yet playing my hand.
