Pelagius looked up at his eldest sister, who stood on the other side of his desk, staring back at him with something close to hate. He gestured to the scroll in front of them on the desk. An agreement that she would abdicate her position as Mekos and place in the succession in total now and forever. In return, she was to be given a position as primus of a province in the east, a wealthy but peaceful province. The perfect sinecure for someone of her limited talents.

"It's what you've always wanted Theodorian. Freedom."

"And so you get your way. You win."

"Don’t be dramatic. It's not unusual; members of the royal family often abdicate. Why, when Mekos herself established the succession of the first-born, she forced her own to abdicate."

"How fitting that you'll become the new Mekos once I'm gone," she said.

Pelagius smiled, grasping full well her double meaning. "Fornulus is dying as we speak. This is your last chance. If you don't do this before he dies, you'll never be free. They'll put the crowns on you, and that is the last thing you want."

"My brother is dead, and you want me to just run away while another one lies on his deathbed." Theodorian stared down at the scroll.

"Two of your brothers are dead, with another two soon to join them."

"I don’t care if Nikolonium dies. He deserves it," Theodorian said. Pelagius wasn't sure if she meant it. She might not be either.

"Regardless, you must sign. It's the only way you can have the life you want." Now was not the time for gentleness. He had to push her; she was wavering. “Sign it. Take control of your own life for once.”

Theodorian glanced at the strigulos flanking him on either side, before glaring at him again.

"Theo, I know you're sharper than most of our siblings. I know you won’t make the same mistake Cordelian did. It's a luxurious life I'm offering you, one that any subject of the empire would envy."

She grimaced, chewing her thoughts over for a moment. "I want to take Meronion's daughters with me," she said.

Pelagius snorted. What a joke.

"Rigiaron won't like that. Have you even spoken to them before today?"

"It's never too late to correct mistakes," Theo said quietly. "It's better than leaving them here."

"Think you're going to save your soul through them?"

Theo looked up at him sharply. "Perhaps I do. Perhaps I will."

"Fine, why would I disagree? It would be trouble for me if they stayed."

He still hadn't decided what to do about the two of them, and this suited him nicely. The last thing he needed was Rigiaron turning them into two little Meronions.

"I don't want to be Primus of Keraklo. I want to be Primus of Euphiles."

"That can be arranged." It would be awkward as he'd have to remove the current Primus, which meant finding a way to make it up to the man, but Pel didn't care if it meant Theodorian left. Euphiles was a more important province than he'd intended to give her, but she would do her job honestly, he knew. It was Vicca's homeland, as he recalled.

"You didn't ask for Heliokopos, Rigiaron's homeland. Wouldn't the children be happier with their grandmother's family?"

"You'd never give me control of the main hub of trade with Bithia," Theodorian said.

No, he wouldn't. He smiled and picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and made the change of Euphiles official on the scroll. He sat back and gestured to her to sign it, crossing his arms comfortably.

"Once we're gone, we're to be left alone," she said, not moving.

He nodded, before adding, "perhaps one day the children can return to court. They are royalty, after all, and I would look after them, for Meronion's sake."

She didn’t like that idea, but she still signed. That was all that mattered. So now Nikolonium was the next in line for the crowns.

The 47th Doukar, Fornulus, lay drawing his last few breaths. Tears slowly trickled down Theo's face as she watched him. Once, long ago, she had looked up to him. His breath rattled as he lay uncomprehending on his bed, surrounded by his surgeons, none of whom could stop it. The moment Cordelian had been working towards for so long was here at last, but Cordelian wasn't.

They hadn't had time to hold any royal funerals yet. Both Cordelian and Ophelion's bodies lay on slabs in the basement below, attended to by the priests of death, a holdover from the old ways that the church of Oma hadn't yet stamped out. There had been talk of having a special service for all three of them once Fornulus died, which everybody expected to happen at any moment.

Every few moments Fornulus would stop breathing for a few heartbeats, and everyone would subtly lean forward in anticipation until he gurgled and started breathing again. Some relaxed in relief, others slumped in disappointment. Theo hovered over him, but his mistress was nowhere to be seen. There was no longer any benefit to being by Fornulus' side. Theo didn't know what had become of the woman. Perhaps she was already on her way home, or perhaps she was still here, hoping to find a place in the new order.

Her two remaining siblings were present, Pelagius and Helastus, both far from the bed, behind the hubbub, in the shadows, waiting in their black formal robes. She found the black and their hawk family symbol sinister in this situation. Theo had already set aside the purple she'd worn as Mekos and returned to the olive-green and olive tree that she and Cordelian had worn their whole life.

Nikolonium was in a cell below. She doubted that anybody had brought him purple robes for his new position as Mekos. He’d only have the position for a short time anyway.

Back in her chamber her servants were busy packing up her possessions, and those of Meronion's daughters. Theo had no intension of waiting for the funeral: the day that Fornulus died would be the day she left the city of Dardano, for good if she could help it. She sat next to Fornulus' bed, near his head, waiting for the inevitable.

She was glad she'd abdicated. She only had to worry about Fornulus' death as a sister, and not for what it would mean for her. His death meant the end of her life here, true, but she wasn't sorry about that. Let the others worry about the empire, about the crowns. She was looking forward to washing her hands of the lot of them.

She felt eyes on her and looked up at Pelagius, but in the gloom she couldn't tell where he was looking. Fornulus coughed and hacked and drew her attention again. Cordelian had done this, and when she remembered that, she felt less sorry at his death. He had deserved it. They all deserved it.

But not Vicca. She had just been trying to defend her family, and they'd cut her down. Even the children. That little girl never had a chance. She hoped Euphastolon had suffered as he died. She didn't know or care who had killed him. He’d had too many enemies to count.

Ophelion though, that she didn't understand. Had it truly been Cordelian? She couldn’t see how it would benefit him. It obviously wasn't Nikolonium, and she didn't think it was Pelagius, as his grief at her death had been obvious. She wasn't sure why anybody would have killed her. Ophelion was no threat to anyone.

Fornulus's harsh choking broke into her thoughts. His body, run to fat in the last couple of years, spasmed as it struggled for air, before at last relaxing with a sigh. Theo wiped her eyes and almost held her breath as one of the surgeons crept forward. The old woman held a bronze mirror up to Fornulus' mouth and nose and waited for some interminable moments. The room was silent.

The woman turned from Fornulus and made the formal pronouncement.

"His Exaltedness has passed to Oma's side. Woe to the Empire and all who shall grieve for our great loss. This day shall be remembered forever as the darkest of our lives."

Whispering broke out everywhere as the members of the court all began discussing their next steps. None of them bothered to come forward to check on Fornulus, or offer her any words of condolence. Several of them did approach Pelagius. They must all know she was on her way out, and there was nothing to be gained from courting her favor. She leant forward and closed her elder brother's eyes, as Pelagius thanked the surgeons for their “dutiful work”.

The whispering trailed off as Pelagius moved to the center of the room and effortlessly commanded attention from everyone in the room, apart from Theo, who pointedly kept looking down at Fornulus.

"Lords, Ladies, while of course we are all reeling from this tragedy, we have much to discuss, and much to do." Pelagius was very commanding, Theo had to give him that.

She didn't listen as he took charge. She lost herself in memories of childhood, of playing with Fornulus and Braxalus and Cordelian. Not all the memories were happy ones, but still she missed those simpler days, when the only worry was how to not draw their father's attention.

Theo realized her childhood had continued up until this moment, and now an entirely new part of her life was beginning. It felt like she had been dozing all this time and had only just woken. But she'd slept too long, and there were no more chances for her to stop what had taken form without her. All she could do was flee and lick her wounds in Heimt, Vicca's home. She remembered the discussion with Vicca about how she wanted to visit it some time, so long ago.

She wiped off her tears and drew herself up with a deep breath. She spent too long worrying about the past, now she had to look forward. She'd make a new life out there in the Euphiles islands, one far away from all this. She glanced at Pelagius. Far away from everything here.

The guards were marching Nikolonium down the dingy corridor, holding him between them as they passed by small windows looking out to a small, featureless courtyard he didn't recognize. He wasn't sure where they were taking him – perhaps to the new cell Pelagius had promised him. He hoped that was it, and that he was not being taken to his death.

That was when he heard it, and everything changed.

For the third time in Nik's memory the Great Bell on top of the tower of Honoria rang out, clear through the open windows. Its sound was unmistakable, distinct from the lesser bells that announced a royal birth, or the bells that announced the death of a lesser royal. He'd heard those many times recently. This bell rang for only two occasions: the crowning of a new Doukar, and the death of a Doukar.

He knew for which of the two the bell rang today. Poor, foolish Fornulus. There wouldn’t even be any royal children to listen for his bell, as there had been for their father. The guards stopped and recited some of the formal lines under their breath blessing their Doukar.

He started to laugh, angering them. They cursed at him for his disrespect. They weren't wrong, but he wasn’t really laughing at his elder brother's death. He was laughing because Cordelian had spent years working up to this moment, hoping for it, scheming for it, hurrying its arrival, and now he wasn’t here to see it. Now, what Cordelian had thought would be the beginning of his glorious future, had become Nik's moment of hope. It was Nik's future, not his.

Even the guards started to look hesitant as they glanced at each other. They must have realized that with the Doukar dead, Nik's fate was now unclear, and they'd better be cautious in how they treat him, just in case he was released.

Nik calmed down and said a prayer for Fornulus' soul, calling on Oma to protect his brother. That soothed the guards, and one of them even joined him in prayer. Nik truly did wish for Oma to look after his elder brother. He could be brutish and lazy, but he hadn’t deserved his fate.

Now Nik’s fate was in Pel's hands, and Nik couldn't think of any hands he'd rather be in. His faithful brother, who'd stuck by him through it all. If Pel could pull it off, appease Theo and have Nikolonium crowned, he couldn’t think of a reward large enough to express his gratitude. For now, he had to wait until Pelagius came to see him again with the news his whole life hung upon.