Coltair moved to sit at his desk in an unhuuried, contemplative stride. The woman, delivered per his order, sat in a plain chair in the middle of the room. He’d walked around her, peered at her toddler son, but said very little. He was listening for any whispers that might give him a clue.

The woman, clearly not Rogun, shivered and twitched. After a long fifteen minutes of silence, he noticed her lips moving.

“Are they saying anything instructive?” he asked her.

Startled, she looked up at him. Her son, asleep for the moment and looking heavy to hold, snorted but didn’t wake.

“They say you are the king,” she replied timidly.

Coltair sat down and leaned heavily forward on his forearms. He thatched his fingers and a thin, humourless line of a smile pulled his mouth. “Anything else?”

She shook her head. “The soldier man called you emperor.” Confusion mixed with the fear in her eyes.

Coltair only chuckled. As they were alone, he spoke frankly to her. “I am the emperor, up here,” he told her. “I am a king to them, , down there,” he qualified, tipping one freed hand toward the floor.

The woman’s eyes grew wide and she clutched her son closer.

He noticed this and nudged his chin in the boy's direction. “His father, do you know him?”

The woman nodded. “Knew him. He left us,” she told him.

Coltair considered it. “Until I hear more from them on what we are to do, you will stay here. Your needs and those of your son will be provided for. If you make trouble, you will be moved to the dungeon, understood?” he added.

The woman looked around but swallowed hard and nodded.

“One last question, what did they say to get you to come here?” he asked her.

“The king was on Rogun. I was to come with my son for salvation.”

Coltair nodded but ended the interview with a call to his elderly valet. He instructed Mogu on his plan and the man gathered the woman and left.

“Salvation,” he mused and leaned deeply back in his oversized chair. “Finally, our salvation is upon us.”

---

Zephen patted his bride's hand gently and moved to separate from her.

She offered a sympathetic but reassuring smile and demurely curtsied while he left.

Out of the garden gathering, he picked up the pace. Zephen hadn’t seen Coltair since the funeral and he had certainly not made an appearance at the reception. He was worried for his brother.

Two nights earlier, the emperor had lost his wife and sons in a tragic boating incident, all hands lost to the waves for an unexplained reason. The weather had been fair and Candice and her boys had been looking forward to the excursion. A sail around the island, some fishing, lunch on a remote beach and back by nightfall.

The girls had wanted to attend, but the emperor had refused them. An abnormal interference in the lives of Coltair’s domestic family. Although their father rarely even interacted with them, all their outings were approved by him, nonetheless. On this outing, he’d refused just the princesses. Odd, but he was the emperor. At least he had not lost all of his children in one day.

Zephen found him in his opulent fifth-floor office, working. As he entered, the page moved to pass Zephen, bowing to him as well before dashing out.

“Brother,” he called out. Coltair didn’t look up. “I am sorry for your loss, my Emperor. Truly, I just wanted to say it. If you need anything, please, I am here.”

Coltair waited to finish his writing. “Yes,” he replied with a deep satisfied sigh. Finally, he looked up at him, no expression of sorrow or weight of grief in his eyes. “I want you to perform the ceremony to bind the woman Thea to me,” his brother said.

Zephen halted.

“I don’t need my daughters there. Just something simple. She won’t be empress,” he added.

Zephen felt ill. “Empress Candice has no successor, then?” he stumbled, trying to hide the shock in his voice.

“No.”

“And if this woman bears you a son? You are only forty-seven, my Esteemed Brother,” he reminded him. “A son will gain you an heir. You must try,” he implored him, his hands rubbing each other in a nervous circle.

Coltair considered it a moment but shook his head and returned to the paper and his writing. “I don’t care,” he said. “Do what you must to satisfy the law.”

“Yes, my Emperor,” Zephen said quietly and when his brother didn’t add any more, he left the room.