Lucian walked alongside Denzel and Abbess Dorothea as they made their way toward Algard. The emperor stood on the giant stone bridge patiently, the wind sending his brilliant red cloak flapping in the wind. He looked quite majestic. Denzel came to stand across from him. Algard stared, looking between them.

  “Why is our cousin here?” Algard asked curiously. “To make you look better?”

  Denzel looked at Lucian. “He was the intermediary between me and the Heavenwatch Monastery.”

  Algard looked at Lucian, reassessing. Then, he looked back at Denzel. He tsked. “Denzel… our father would spank you if his arms still worked. Involving a foreign nation in our succession. Some would call that treason.”

  “We’re merely the church, Your Imperial Highness,” Dorothea said calmly. “You need not give us such a grand designation.”

  “I think he’s merely emphasizing that he could spin it like that,” Denzel said. “Now, Lucian said you’d prefer I talk straight, so I will. Our father is dead—likely at the hands of demons. They very nearly caused a rebellion in our country. A dispute between us would empower the demons to worm their way back into our nation. This is why the monastery has involved itself. No other reason than that.”

  Algard stood there, the faintest smile on his face. He said nothing.

  “I know that you’re dissatisfied with our father’s will. You—”

  “I find the notion that I should partition our father’s personal domain in half with you utterly contemptible,” Algard said levelly. “I cannot abide creating a new cadet branch and diluting the potency of the crown. Give up the inheritance of land father left you, and I’ll leave you and yours be. That’s the bottom line.”

  Algard’s sticking point was the fact that their father decreed that his imperial lands would be split between the two princes, with Algard as emperor. He was an ambitious man, and believed that a centralized authority was paramount. He’d never tolerate weakening the crown.

  “I need something to make me trust you,” Denzel said. “You kept our father’s death hidden. You sent spies looking for my mother, intending to do who knows what.”

  “Don’t be dramatic, Denny. I was intending to capture her, and then ransom her back to you for precisely the price I ask now,” Algard said bluntly.

  Denzel stepped forward. “And after admitting to something that heinous, you think that I can believe you’ll simply let us go in peace once I’ve surrendered my inheritance?”

  “Well… you should believe it. You don’t concern me,” Algard said with a shrug. “If you’re paranoid, that’s hardly my concern.”

  Lucian cut in before things could get out of hand, saying, “Then you’re perfectly comfortable with him inheriting the Duchy of Villamar, then? You would confirm that publicly?”

  Algard looked at Denzel. “Are you?”

  “I am,” Lucian said with a nod.

  “So you say,” Algard said skeptically. “But… yes. I don’t care about what happens to Villamar.”

  “Then we have something to work with,” Lucian said, looking at Denzel. “Right? Enough, at least, for a meeting.”

  “Indeed. Denzel, is that right?” Algard asked. “It’s colder than our father out here. Shall we prevail upon the good lady Dorothea’s hospitality?”

  “You were the one that demanded I come down,” Denzel said.

  Algard scoffed. “I suppose you think an emperor should come to you? How arrogant.”

  Dorothea laughed, and all eyes went to her. “You two are truly brothers.”

  Algard adjusted his cloak. “Half-brothers. My mother was far prettier than his. She’s less alive, unfortunately, so he wins in that regard.”

  “We’ve prepared some quarters for you if you’d like to rest,” Dorothea said. “There should be ample space for all of your retinue. We have more land than we know what to do with.”

  “Very well. Let’s get settled in before nightfall,” Algard said, then started walking forth. He gestured backward, and the procession started moving again.

  Lucian looked back at the procession. From one of the carriages, he caught sight of golden eyes. He met them to see Cyril staring at him. He quickly slid shut the window. Lucian smiled. The fact that he’d come here at all… he’d already lost. And so had Lydia, for that matter.

  Unless Lucian flubbed things bigtime, of course—always a possibility.

  ***

  Lucian opened the door and stopped at the threshold. There, Algard sat with three people attending to him. He turned his head back when Lucian entered.

  “Lucian. I don’t recall asking for you,” Algard said. “Were you sent to warm my bed? I’ll have to request the fairer sex instead.”

  “You don’t recall? Perhaps Your Imperial Majesty can ask the monastery for some mnemonic tricks.” Lucian remained at the doorway because he hadn’t been invited in. “After all, you asked to pre-negotiate with Denzel. Here I am.”

  The emperor looked over. “It seems my brother’s face became more punchable. I didn’t think it was possible.” Algard waved away his servants, and they filtered out. “Well, enter. Why exactly did he send you? Denzel never had a good word to say about you. That was one of the few things we agreed on.”

  Lucian entered inside and shut the door. “He sent me because I asked. We’ve become closer. I doubt you care about the backstory, so I’ll get to the point. I’m here because I think the two of you can’t communicate properly.”

  “It’s my fault he hears what he wants to hear?” Algard argued.

  “You think that he’s weak. He thinks you’re a sadist. I don’t think either is accurate,” Lucian said. “I was hoping to be an intermediary between you two. A translator, so to speak.”

  “Horribly presumptuous,” Algard criticized.

  “Can you honestly say that you’ve had a conversation with Denzel that hasn’t descended into argument?”

  Algard mumbled something incoherent that seemed like concession.

  “If peace can’t be made between you two, these problems are only going to persist. It may be nice to keep your father’s domain whole, but how you do it is just as important,” Lucian said.

  Algard stood and walked over to Lucian. “You speak very flippantly to the man who is your sovereign. Very few shows of respect. Very little curbing your tongue.”

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  “Forgive me, but Verne is more a home to me than Riverra ever was. I’ve adapted their speaking patterns,” Lucian said. “I’m not upset at all to be disinherited. In fact, it helped Denzel and I mend fences, so to speak.”

  Algard threw his hand up. “You have something to sell me on. Just get to it.”

  “Denzel needs a reason to trust you,” Lucian said. “Give it to him.”

  “Brilliant. I never could have come up with that myself,” Algard said with a snap. “Perhaps there’s a place for you in my administration. Court jester? What do you say? It fits your impertinent address.”

  Lucian shook his head, then said plainly, “Force Cyril to abdicate. Confirm Denzel as the heir to Villamar, and force the duke out.”

  Algard was speechless for a second. Then, he smiled, and shortly after began to laugh. He stepped away and eventually looked back at Lucian.

  “Force Cyril to abdicate? My, my… you are a jester.” He shook his head, and his face hardened. “I always thought you were slow, but not to this extent. The last thing I need to indicate to the nobility that are looking to me for leadership is that I’m willing to meddle with their titles unilaterally.”

  “Cyril has no choice but to play along, and every noble would agree,” Lucian said. “He’s a dying man, and he has assets beyond the duchy alone. He knows that his time is limited, as does everyone else. It’s an elegant solution that the duke cannot reasonably oppose without seeming like a vain man clinging to a title at the detriment of the empire. If you pressure Cyril, he has to fold. And if you need a carrot, remind him that he’d be seen as the one that abdicated to prevent a succession war.”

  Algard’s hands clenched into fists and unclenched, clearly thinking.

  “Denzel doesn’t trust you. Give him this as a peace offering to show that you don’t truly fear him. Show him that this isn’t just about fearing your brother might one day usurp you. Because right now, that’s what he thinks. He thinks you’re trying to marginalize him and kill him and his family so that he can’t challenge your throne.”

  “And how do you know it isn’t about that?” Algard asked with a raised brow.

  “I’m not a mind reader,” Lucian said. “Am I right?”

  “He’s far too sensitive for the throne,” Algard said. “He wouldn’t dream of killing one to save ten thousand. No, I don’t fear him.”

  Lucian wanted to tell Algard that Denzel had plotted to kill Metterand, and even consented to a plan that killed Algard, but he kept that quiet. “If you can get him the Duchy of Villamar, I can promise Denzel will surrender the lands partitioned by your father,” Lucian said. “Then, the two of you can work together toward a shared goal—fighting the demons.”

  “Hm.” Algard sat down in a chair in the room. “You disappoint me, Lucian. I heard you were an irredeemable wastrel and a hedonist. Now I come to find you’re merely another cousin that’s come to me with a pitch to solve all my problems. I have many of you at court. The jester offer is revoked.”

  “You’ve got far more problems than Denzel, I’m afraid,” Lucian said flatly. “I only have the solution to this one problem.”

  “I came here to subjugate Heavenwatch,” Algard said. “They threatened the Emperor of Riverra, even if it was a veiled threat. I cannot abide such a thing.”

  Lucian’s heart pumped faster. What?

  “But… forcing Cyril to abdicate is a fine way to demonstrate authority,” Algard mused. “There are more monastics than I thought. It’s a dangerous proposition. Still… it always bothered me, seeing the little white dot on the map interrupting the contiguous borders of the Empire.” He rubbed his chin. “You’ve seen them fight, no? What do you think?”

  “I think they could probably handle your entire procession,” Lucian said, not exaggerating.

  “All the more reason,” Algard said. “Well… I suppose I’ll decide eventually. Now, get out. I’m tired of talking. I’ll speak to Cyril, propose this to him.”

  Lucian felt a flutter of unease, but he was confident in his assessment of the situation. Everything was coming together.

  ***

  Lucian thought that he would hear the results of his talk with Algard in the morning. As it happened, he heard them come midnight.

  “If you want me to abdicate, you need to let me meet the one that speaks for the True Divine Beast,” Cyril said to Lucian. “Aurelia, her name was.”

  Lucian was incredibly offput when Duke Cyril came to his room in the middle of the night and made this demand of him. The request that he was making was one of the last that he was inclined to give, but this was quite an important matter. Whether or not Cyril abdicated might decide whether or not these imperial brothers reconciled at all.

  “Anything you want to say, I can communicate to her,” Lucian suggested.

  “No,” Cyril said firmly. “I must speak to her, and her alone.”

  Lucian’s suspicion rose. Why, exactly?

  “The monastics are an… innocent and pure-minded people, especially Aurelia,” Lucian said, almost gagging on the words. “Considering your nature, I’m not comfortable with you sitting alone with her. If you’re to speak with her, I’ll be there.”

  Cyril ground his teeth together, then looked off to the side. “Only if she agrees.”

  ***

  Aurelia looked particularly satisfied as Lucian sat beside her, playing second fiddle.

  “I assure you, Lucian has the confidence of the True Divine Beast. Anything that you can say to me, there’s no issue if it graces his ears,” Aurelia said in a sweet, comforting tone that didn’t suit her.

  Cyril looked at Lucian, his eyes reevaluating his stance in things. It was troublesome Lucian had to expose himself like this, but unavoidable. He needed Cyril’s cooperation in abdication. Algard had a great deal of pressure to apply, yes, but Duke Cyril was Duke Cyril. It was better for everyone if this was clean.

  “I’ll get right to the point, because this may well be an urgent matter. Someone in the emperor’s closest company is in direct contact with the demons,” Cyril declared.

  Lucian’s heart throbbed in dread. If that was true, then… it could mean many things.

  “How do you know—”

  A booming noise reverberated through the building they were inside. All three of them whipped their head to the source.

  “Sounded like it came from the bridge,” Aurelia said.

  Lucian stood to get a better look, moving to a window that had a view. Soon enough, more booms reverberated.

  ***

  Brutus was running a bit late to the mediation in Heavenwatch Monastery. There were some innocents that required his aid along the way. Surely Lucian could overlook a good deed… or three.

  Sometimes, though, being late could mean that someone was right on time.

  A hulking demon stood on the stone bridge to the monastery. It raised up drill-like fists and slammed them down onto the bridge, sending great quakes reverberating across it. Each one dug deeper into the formidable structure. The demon had started doing this right in the center of the bridge. Brutus, meanwhile, had just arrived on the bridge.

  “Hey!” Brutus shouted, running toward the devil. It was difficult to move because the ground was shaking so fiercely. The demon ignored him, continuing drilling. Brutus kneeled down and grabbed a dislodged stone, then threw it fiercely. It hit the demon in the head, and it looked over. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  The demon drew itself up to its formidable full height. Brutus almost stepped back from its sheer presence. Then, it roared loudly enough Brutus thought his eardrums might burst. It planted its gorilla-like arms on the ground, facing him.

  A duel on a bridge, he thought with a cheeky smile. Always wanted one of these. Gods, are you watching me?

  ***

  Belcourt watched the Martial Prince square off with the demon he’d placed to destroy the bridge. He couldn’t help but feel trapped once more.

  Did the True Divine Beast predict our actions again, and summon this man here?

  He debated in his head calling off the operation. The Master had seen that they were being picked off, one by one, all across the four great powers. The Master had made what Belcourt thought to be a prudent move—retreat, only to concentrate their forces for a surgical operation.

  This night, they sought to strike at Heavenwatch Monastery directly in an attempt to draw out the True Divine Beast. The mediation had seemed like the perfect stage for that battle… but now, Belcourt wasn’t so sure.

  Either way, the attack on Heavenwatch Monastery had begun. The First Emperor would begin to turn the tides of the war here, no doubt.