Garden of Embers: Beneath Devouring Eyes #2

Chapter 5, Final Part

Domi was used to having people loom over him. As a Pullatus, he had often flung himself into the dust to grovel whenever Lightholders or anyone wearing a long paenula passed. And as someone small for his age, he'd found himself looking up into the faces of even younger kids too many times to count.

Despite his new status, it was hard not to feel vulnerable as he remained seated before a standing Pyrrhaeus. Comitas, taking charge of him the instant he and his party had entered the palace, had whispered that it was "protocol" as she'd ushered him here to the tablinum office without delay, calling a gaggle of confused servants from their beds to "tidy the Princeps up". He understood that remaining seated while a servant stood before him was supposed to be some kind of weird power play, but it made him feel weak, not strong.

Comitas scrutinized him with a stern, critical eye as the servants finished weaving his hair into an intricate braid that pulled painfully at his scalp, already giving him a headache. After a moment she nodded, flicking her fingers to the door,
and Domi watched dully as the attendants scurried away. Was it really necessary for them to run everywhere? It made him even more exhausted than he already was.

A cleared throat drew his gaze to the Pyrrhaei protocol handler. He didn't understand how she managed to simultaneously frown in displeasure and maintain that expression of bland politeness. "Head up, shoulders back, Basilicus," she said, lifting her own chin and tapping her shoulder to demonstrate.

He was so tired. Why wouldn't she let him go to bed? Everyone else had been banished from his presence to rest, but she'd stuffed him in this chair and it wasn't fair.

Grimacing, he pulled his shoulders back and forced himself to sit upright. Comitas still did not look pleased, so he sat ramrod straight in his plush chair, and at last, she gave a reluctant nod and, turning to the door, clapped.

Fons, Daedalus's private secretary--Eyes devour, no, his secretary, now--stepped within the office and stood before him. Like Comitas, he had dark circles beneath his eyes but carried himself with effortless grace, as though he hadn't been up overnight with the others making arrangements for Domi's arrival.

The young Pyrrhaeus bowed, hand over laurel, and Domi sighed and grumbled, "May the Eyes pass over you." He had only had to say it a few times and was already coming to hate the traditional greeting.

Fons straightened, nudging his spectacles higher on his nose. "And you also, Basilicus." He folded his hands before him. "There are but four things on your schedule for today."

Domi just stared up at him. Was the man bloody serious? He wanted to go to sleep! But out loud he only said, "Yeah, what are they?"

"Yes, Basilicus," Comitas said. He frowned at her, wondering what she was agreeing to, and she clarified. "The proper word to use is 'yes', not 'yeah'."

Domi tried not to glare. "Fine. What's on the schedule, Fons?"

Comitas cleared her throat, apparently displeased with something he'd said. He ignored her. He just wanted this to be over.

Fons offered a small, sympathetic smile. "First, you meet with Peritia, your Trellis expert. She will guide you through the process of addressing the hurricane so that it does not develop into a hypercane. Second, I am sad to say it, but you have an appointment with the Princeps Lifeholder. Given the disturbances in the Trellis these past several hours, the Rex is no longer willing to wait until your solitude ends before having her examine you. After that, again by the Rex's orders, you will be making a brief appearance to the people for the morning Cultus observance if the Princeps deems you well enough. The Rex believes that it is important that the masses see for themselves that you are alive and well. And then after that, it is straight to bed."