Domi wished he could enjoy the lazy morning of his first day of Solitude more. Judging from the quartet of shocked, exasperated, and worried faces staring at him after his little breakfast announcement, his relaxing day was about to end before it had truly started.
"Well? What do you think?" he asked, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. Even so, sweat dampened his hands and he found himself holding his breath as he waited.
Valens and Arbita exchanged glances, something passing between amber and cocoa eyes. They were doing the strange silent communication more and more every day. After a moment the lifeholder said, "We wish that you had spoken with us first, Basilicus."
"Edera and I didn't get married yet," Domi pointed out, looking from one adult to the next. Except for Comitas. Best not to look at her while she stood so stiff she almost seemed to vibrate. "I just asked her if she wanted to be my wife and then told you right away that she agreed."
Valens groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Eyes devour..."
"You--" Comitas broke off, sputtering. Red-faced, she looked about ready to have an apoplexy. "You made a marriage offer. A marriage offer, Basilicus." Her voice was rising and Domi squirmed, slouching lower in his chair and studying the blueberries atop his chocolate chia seed breakfast pudding. "To a girl well below your rank carrying another boy's children. His twins. Without consulting us."
"Well, he's the one getting married, Erus, not you."
Domi tried to keep his lip from quirking as he darted a grateful glance up at his Ma. Then his eyes met hers and he found himself practically skewered to the wall by her stern glare.
"However," Merula went on as Comitas sputtered, "you still should have talked to us, Basilicus. You're only fifteen. This decision affects the rest of your life. And this girl's."
"Have you kids spoken to Cerasus yet?" Arbita asked, her voice quiet.
"No," Domi said, managing, at last, to tear his gaze away from his Ma's narrowed eyes.
"Good. Don't." Everyone glanced at her and the lifeholder offered a tight smile. "If he finds out that Edera carries twins, he will only let her keep one. He's a traditionalist in this regard." She grimaced. "I was too, until a few days ago. It's how lifeholders are trained. He can't know about this until she's far away from him and wed. Then she'll be too high rank for him to sense the presence of either babe."
Comitas gritted her teeth. "So they will need to wed as swiftly as possible before the girl's father has cause to suspect a pregnancy."
"Fons is going to kill you," Valens told Domi. His exasperation seemed to have shifted to dry amusement. "Do you have any idea how much work goes into planning a royal wedding? And you want a rushed one."
Domi rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, we're not wanting a royal wedding." He cleared his throat as they all stared at him in varying levels of surprise. "We were thinking something less formal. Way, way less."
"That is not--" Comitas yelped, jerking to her feet. Her chair screeched across the marble floor as her sudden movement forced it back. "You cannot seriously mean to elope!"
Domi smiled sheepishly. "Well, we need to get married fast so that the babes will seem to be mine. And what's more believable? A Princeps marrying a random frontier girl ranked so low she barely made it onto his list of conjugal matches? Or a fifteen-year-old foolishly running off and wedding a secret sweetheart he's been having a youthful tryst with through the Caeles?"
"Neither will work," Merula pointed out. "You Promethidae can't wed until you're sixteen. You're barely fifteen."
Comitas gritted her teeth. "The Rex granted special dispensation to wed early. The Princeps is free to do so whenever he wishes, but this... it is just not done."
"There's still another matter we're all forgetting," Valens pointed out. When everyone turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed. "Our young, foolish, hopelessly in love Princeps has just been placed in Solitude. Indefinitely. It's a bit hard to orchestrate a romantic spectacle like a scandalous royal elopement while he's locked up."
Domi quirked a grin. "Actually it's perfect." Valens arched a skeptical brow at him. "Solitude is exactly the right time. Imagine. Two young lovebirds with far too much spare time without adequate adult supervision. They meet secretly in the Caeles and, in the heat of passion, plot something foolish. Then the world wakes up to the shocking news: Princeps Daedalus has run off and gotten himself married."
He was beginning to feel bad for Comitas. The woman clutched her heart like Domi was trying to rip it from her chest. "The scandal will--"
"Well, at least the scandal will distract the world from speculating about any unplanned pregnancies," Valens pointed out with a smirk. "Hard to get a girl pregnant when you've only met through the Caeles before marriage."
"You're enjoying this too much," Arbita sighed, and her husband only shrugged.
"So," Merula said, chuckling. "It sounds like I'm going to become a grandmother soon. And a mother-in-law."
At that, Domi's heart thudded in his chest. The marriage might be fake, but the babe wouldn't be. He couldn't just fake being a father. That wouldn't be fair to the little kid. He'd have to be a real father. A foster father, maybe. But sometimes foster parents were more real than biological parents. He peeked at Merula.
Comitas just glared from one person to the next, fuming. "I will get Fons working on the script without delay," she said through gritted teeth. "Even if we fake utterly foolish impulsivity--" Her tone made it clear she didn't consider the foolishness fake. "--this little scandal must be orchestrated with utmost care."
<>
By noon all of the excitement over his impending wedding had died down and Domi was bored out of his mind.
The first time he'd been in Solitude, time had passed in a blur. He'd been so sick, overwhelmed, and exhausted that he had slept a lot and mostly been confined to his bedchamber to rest.
This time he felt much better, even if the idea of his approaching elopement and--worse--impending fatherhood made him jittery. And that was on top of the fear that Princeps Buccina would expose him at any moment. He was beginning to think she wouldn't, but he couldn't be sure.
The nervous energy drove him out of his bedchamber and into the palace halls in search of something, anything, to do. Any other day he could have wandered off to Sidus's or Radix's rooms, but now he was confined to the royal wing and they weren't allowed to enter it. And it was too late for a meal and too early for his afternoon lessons with Valens and Aix.
The obsidian and silver halls to which he was restricted were vast but still felt oppressive. He wove through them, trying to ignore the trailing Electi. At least Comitas was not shadowing him for once, ready to nag him at every turn about the words he used, his posture, the way he entered and departed rooms, and everything else she found to criticize.
He ducked into a gallery, trying to make himself enjoy the paintings of all his ancestors, but their creepy promenia eyes followed him everywhere as he walked. Were their eidolons watching him somewhere, too? Shuddering, he hurried out of the room.
Next, he slipped into one of several small libraries. This one was for pleasure reading, a concept that was foreign to him, but he did find a volume or two of familiar wondertales. Maybe reading stories he already knew would help him get better at sounding out words.
The Electi about had a fit though when he tried to climb the book ladder to get one of the volumes higher on the shelf.
"Basilicus," the woman said, looking stiff and uncomfortable as she hurried to help him down. "You must not do such dangerous things when undertaking Solitude."
"Carry this," he growled, plopping the book he'd barely managed to snatch into the surprised woman's arms. "Or I might get a paper cut on my dainty hands and then the world will end."
He knew he was being a brat, but it wasn't fair. He was the Princeps and was supposed to rule this place, yet no one let him do anything.
Grumbling under his breath, he stalked out into the garden next, ignoring his obnoxious followers' warning about insect stings and taking a chill, and spent half an hour packing snow into balls and throwing it at Daedalus's stupid peach trees. It was kind of satisfying watching them explode against the bark in powdery white showers, but the Electi were eying him like he had grown another head, so sighing, he let the snow be and wandered back indoors.
Salutatio--overseen by Comitas--was long past and the vast hall free of petitioners and sycophants. So he strode in there, curling up on the Throne of Solitude and snapping at the Electi to give him his book.
"What is your name, anyway?" he asked a moment later, feeling bad. He flipped to the chapter on Quintus Conatus, the curia whose name meant "fifth try" and whose wild, hilarious efforts to become a curia were legendary.
"Docis Nitidus," she answered.
Well, that was awkward. She was one of Astricus's kinswomen then, though Trueborn, not Empowered. Part of Daedalus's foster family.
"Thank you for carrying the book, Promerenti Docis," he said.
She blinked, eyes widening. "Of course, Basilicus."
He tried to focus on reading, then. Really, he did. But he discovered his abject failure when whispered voices jerked him out of the light slumber he hadn't even realized he'd slipped into.
"Is he napping on the Throne of Solitude?"
Someone slipped the book from his slack fingers. "After reading himself a wondertale bedtime story, it seems."
The voices snickered, and then a voice he thought he recognized as Docis's said sternly, "The Princeps needs his rest. He's been placed in Solitude for a reason."
"Yeah, yeah," one of the new voices said. Male. Familiar, somewhat, but he couldn't place it. "But he's late for a staff meeting."
Staff meeting? His eyes snapped open, and he found himself blinking up into Potens's and Amnis's smiling faces. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Sorry," he said groggily as he took in Valens's older siblings. He yawned. "Forgot." They were supposed to discuss the progress on the Blightlands efforts now that the news about the crisis and the state response was public.
Potens grinned. "I believe that you are supposed to forget such things and relax during Solitude, Basilicus."
Domi nodded but forced himself to his feet. "Still, I did not mean to be late. Let us go," he said, trying to sound like Daedalus instead of just like a bratty dunce. He doubted it was working, but the two worldholders and two Electi starholders were too polite to look annoyed, at least.
"I am impressed you managed to fall asleep on that thing, Basilicus," Potens laughed, his boisterous, booming voice filling the hall.
"It is surprisingly comfortable." The Throne of Solitude made his body ache when he had to perch on it, back straight, feet flat on the floor. But it made a decent napping nook if he sat sideways. He'd slept that way against many an alleyway wall just fine.
He followed them out into the hall, taking his book sheepishly back from Docis. He felt like a fool as he walked to a staff meeting with a book of wondertales tucked under one arm like a little kid, but at least there were far fewer attendants and other servants wandering about now, and no courtiers.
"So," Amnis said as they walked, her voice much softer than her younger brother's could ever be. "Valens told us a little rumor about a bigger rumor we're all about to hear."
"Yeah--Yes." Edera was sneaking out of her conservatory lessons and traveling to Vola Apertus already. With luck, Cerasus wouldn't catch on that she'd left until she was late showing up to convivium. "Word travels fast."
"That it does," Potens agreed. Domi flicked him a glance. Word certainly would travel far and far if the loud man kept talking. Eyes devour. "Have you told Sidus? And your little friend? I forget their name. The Pullati genius."
Domi grinned. Pullati genius. He loved that Radix was finally getting some recognition for their brilliance. And then the smile melted from his lips. "No. Not yet. I have no idea what to say."
Potens and Amnis exchanged a glance. Then Amnis said, "Maybe just start simple? Tell them the truth." She lowered her voice. "That you're getting married." She cleared her throat, then spoke at a normal volume. "And then take it from there."
"Alright," he murmured. He needed to find a way to tell them both, and soon. It needed to come from him, not by letter or word of mouth. But he was stuck in Solitude and wasn't supposed to see them, or they him. He'd have to find a way, though.
"Let's get this meeting over with so you can nap in an actual bed instead of on thrones, Basilicus," Potens said. His voice echoed down the hall.
Amnis chuckled. "Yes, before Valens and Enixe get so impatient waiting they waltz off to the Blightlands to deal with the threat themselves."
<>
Beneath the vast expanse of burgundy evening sky clasped by a delicate Golden net, Sidus and Radix gave each other an uneasy glance.
"The roof," the starholder said, swiping a hand at his running nose. "Why does he have to meet us on the roof?"
The Germinating wind made his throat and nostrils feel raw, and he nudged his prometus to heat his body just a little. His body was already a touch warm with a mild illness--Aix had kicked him out of class earlier that afternoon--but a little extra warmth wouldn't hurt. Maybe it would even burn away whatever was making him sick.
"D-d-don't k-know," Radix chattered, their arms wrapped tightly around themself. "B-but I w-wish he'd hurry u-u-up."
Sidus winced, feeling like a selfish fool. He was not used to interacting with Pyrrhaei. It was easy to forget how fragile they were. "Here," he said, pulling his paenula over his head and then handing it to the shuddering Pullatus. "Don't freeze to your bones."
"W-won't you b-be cold?" Radix asked, clutching the warm fabric close. They wore a palace attendant's attire, solidly made and quite fine, but not truly meant for outdoors.
Sidus shrugged and nudged his prometus to radiate more heat through his veins. "I can warm myself."
A scuff against stone had them both twisting to look at the edge of the palace wall in astonishment. Then a head of dark hair appeared and Sidus's heart leaped into his throat.
"What are you doing?" he gasped, hurrying over to grab his lover and haul him atop the roof before Domi tumbled to his death.
"Had to go out the window," Domi shrugged, then smiled shyly as he seemed to notice he was cradled in Sidus's arms. "T-there are. Electi. And um."
"I'm r-right h-here, you t-two," Radix grumbled.
They stepped apart reluctantly, finding the Pullatus frowning at them. Sidus already missed having the other boy's smaller body in his arms.
Domi rubbed his neck like he always did when at his most adorably awkward. "Sorry for making you two come up here. It's the only way I could talk to you without someone catching me breaking Solitude."
Sidus rather liked the idea of a secret midnight meeting beneath the glowing Trellis-light, but would really rather have done this while feeling better. And without Radix right there eying them both with those pitiful amber eyes like a hurt puppy.
"You know," he said, "you could have just met us over the Caeles. It's untraceable, and Radix has a Caeles stone of their own now."
"Not for this," Domi said, grimacing. He bit his lip. "I wanted to tell you this myself before you hear it from someone else. And explain, so you don't get confused by all the drama that's about to unfold."
"D-drama?" Radix asked, smiling as Domi wandered to their side and hugged them close to warm them.
"Mmhm," Domi hummed, rubbing the Pullati's arms briskly. He glanced up, meeting Sidus's eyes and looking strangely guilty. "It will be a lot of drama because I'm, that is Edera and I, are planning to elope."
Sidus blinked even as Radix went completely still. Edera. Edera? The same Edera that Domi had attacked and who had nearly taken his life in return? How in the world did that match make any sense? He was missing some important piece of the puzzle.
And then Domi's last words caught up with him. "Wait, you're planning an elopement? Don't people usually just, you know, elope?"
Domi shrugged sheepishly. "Well, we have to plan because this whole thing is a huge distraction. See the thing is, Edera's pregnant. With Daedalus's twins. Yes, you heard that right. Daedalus. Twins."
Sidus felt his mouth drop open. Daedalus bedded someone? Daedalus? His younger foster brother always seemed too uptight for bedding, yet just a few days of freedom in Urbs Hostiae and he was sowing his wild oats? With Edera? And of course the fool would go and not only knock the girl up, but with twins.
No wonder Edera had to marry Domi. And fast. She carried the heirs to the Throne of Solitude. But they had to be registered in Daedalus's name and reared in the palace.
"Eyes devour," he breathed.
"No," Radix whispered. They turned in Domi's arms, pulling away, and Sidus was surprised to find tears streaming down their face. "You can't marry her. Edera? Are you kidding me?" Their hands balled into fists. "She almost killed you."
"I know," Domi grimaced. "And I attacked her and threatened to kill her. Not exactly a great start to a marriage. But she carries the heirs of the Th--"
"I can c-carry your heirs," Radix blurted. "Don't m-marry her. Marry m-me!"
Sidus could only stare in shock, but Domi winced, looking pained. "Radix..."
The Pullatus twisted, rising to their toes and pressing their lips to the surprised boy's. The kiss was brief, but they clutched Domi's hands afterward and pressed his palms to their belly as the Trellis flared overheard. "Please, d-don't wed h-her," they begged the wide-eyed boy. "She doesn't w-want you. I do. I always h-have. I c-can give you children, y-you know that. You're a Lightholder. They'll be Lightholders t-too a-and--"
Sidus winced, feeling bad for them both. Should he tell them? He wasn't sure it was his place to interrupt--Domi could handle his own relationships and Sidus wasn't worried Radix was going to steal him away or something--but it was possible the younger boy might not know the law anymore than Radix did. It would be worse for them both to get their hopes up and then learn they could have no future together. At least not this kind of future.
"You two can't wed," he said quietly, feeling guilty even though he didn't make the eugenics laws and didn't agree with them. He couldn't wed Domi either, yet still, he felt remorseful. Or perhaps it was just regret. "He's a Promethidae and you're a Pyrrhaeus. It's not allowed."
"Shut up!" Radix snarled, jerking away from Domi. The worldholder reached out for them, but with a gasping sob, they dodged the gentle gesture and fled for the rooftop staircase.
"Radix," Domi murmured, starting after them, but they darted through the door and slammed it behind them.
Sidus sighed. "They probably just need some time to think." He studied the younger boy as Domi chewed his lip. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," the worldholder said. He touched his lip. "Just surprised." His voice lowered. "And sad. I didn't know."
"I did." Sidus smiled as Domi's head lifted. "They're always glaring at me. Let's get you back inside and out of the cold before the Electi realize you're missing."
Domi smiled slyly. "Or we can stay out here a bit more," he said, stepping closer.
"Are you sure you don't want to go wait for Edera?" Sidus teased, taking the other boy's face in hand. He was pleased he could cradle his jaw now without the Trellis offering its celestial approval. Or whatever it was doing. The more Domi adjusted to his touch, the more the lattice did likewise.
"Edera will just be a wife in name," Domi said, eyes dark in the burgundy sunlight as he peered up into Sidus's eyes. "If she wants more, she can wait." He smirked. "Wait for Daedalus to reclaim his throne."
Sidus chuckled and, dipping his head, caught the Princeps's lips.