Page 169 of The Emperor's Bone Palace

Soren tightened his grip on the strap of his rucksack. “Not for Daijal’s lack of trying.”

Delani’s expression darkened, and she waved him into the room. “I haven’t had a good report out of Calhames since we recalled the station wardens, but the broadsheets have reported about a revenant attack in the Imperial palace. Is that story true?”

“Yes. The House of Sa’Liandel remains in control of the Imperial throne, but the House of Kimathi allied itself with Daijal to try to gain it. My border was overrun in their effort.”

Very few knew of the crypt beneath the Imperial palace. The governor had kept that knowledge retained by very few high-ranking wardens on the island at Soren’s request, the stay still in effect. He wondered if that would no longer be the case after today.

“I see.” Delani leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Daijal’s doing? Truly?”

“Blades were sent to infiltrate the grounds. They waited until the Conclave of Houses had everyone gathered under one roof to initiate the attack.”

One of the wardens to Delani’s right, an older man with dark skin and close-cropped hair, drummed his fingers against the table. “That would explain the Legion being on the move and the closing of the northern border.”

“The emperor survived?” Delani asked.

Soren fought back a flinch. “He used starfire in defense of his people and burned down the palace with all the revenants inside.”

“Royals are finally good for something,” a warden muttered, eliciting an elbow to their ribs from their neighbor.

Delani was still looking at him as if she’d never seen him before, but her voice, when she spoke, was even and professional. “How certain are you a Solarian House is collaborating with the Daijal court?”

He thought of being trapped in an iron coffin, with a revenant scratching at the lid, trying to getinrather than out. He thought of the way Alida’s face had twisted with hate so deep he’d wondered how she’d hidden it while in service to Vanya. He thought of Artyom’s greed and the way he’d have gladly murdered Raiah in pursuit of power.

“Very,” he said, voice gone momentarily hoarse. He cleared his throat, running his tongue over the back of his teeth. “The emperor confirmed it.”

Delani lifted a hand to drag it over her mouth. “That’s going to mean war between more than two countries.”

Her words set off a round of furious discussion, most of which Soren barely understood the context of. He shifted on his feet, moving around the table to post himself up against the wall. There weren’t any seats left, but he hadn’t been dismissed, and he wasn’t sure what other questions Delani had for him. He had his own, too, about the status of the island. The customs officer had mentioned wounded being held at the hospitals here, and he wanted to know how many had survived.

Soren slid his rucksack off his shoulder, lowering it to the floor. The back-and-forth going on was held mostly by the wardens, with the E’ridians present watching and growing increasingly concerned-looking. Soren didn’t know what the different plaid or hair adornments meant, but he figured the colors and designs on the ones worn by the pair of men who arrived half an hour later meant they must be some sort of nobility.

The new arrivals both wore kilts and sturdy knee-high boots, the fitted day jacket favored by E’ridians on the ground hanging oddly off the blond’s shoulders. Soren realized why when he saw the way the sleeve was pinned up, showcasing the stump of an arm that ended just below the elbow visible when he turned from addressing his companion. The blond looked pale, thin in the way of illness, with shadows bruised beneath his eyes.

The dark-haired man’s black braid hanging over his shoulder held an assortment of metal adornments that put everyone else’s to shame. The blond’s hair was much shorter, though still styled like an E’ridian. Soren watched as both of them glanced around the room, clearly familiar with everyone present, but the second their attention landed on him, the two went absolutely still, color washing out of both their faces.

Delani hummed, the sound loud in the sudden silence. “I thought it was my imagination. Guess it’s not. The resemblance is certainly uncanny.”

People turned around in their seats to look at him, and something icy settled in the pit of Soren’s stomach as he stared everyone down.

“Delani,” the dark-haired man said, voice flat and hard and oh so angry. “He’s a warden.”

“I am aware of that, Honovi.”

“I’ve always been a warden,” Soren snapped, trying desperately not to think of the time before, because it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, except for how it did.

How it always had.

“No,” the blond said faintly, staring at him with wide, haunted eyes, giving voice to a truth Soren would give anything to stay buried. “You haven’t, Alasandair.”