Denisius rose to his feet, praying to the gods his legs would hold steady, while Vos remained at his side, fingers curled tightly round the hilt of his sword. Mindful of palace protocol, he wouldn't draw it until he saw naked steel, but his master could feel the tenseness of his muscles inches away, ready to spring into action at a second's warning. Quilla, seeing no need to hew to the Emperor's demands if his lord's life was in danger, had drawn a wickedly curved dagger, one of at least five he had on his person at all times. As the footsteps drew closer, he nestled into the shadows pooled between the double doors and the towering shelves beside them, no sign of him visible but a glitter of hungry metal.

Lamplight was now wavering down the corridor, framing a thin and spare silhouette of a figure in robes. As it neared, it resolved itself into the shape of a gaunt man of middle years, even taller and more slender than Vos, glittering ice blue eyes staring from above hollowed cheeks and a thin patch of graying beard, his dress a sumptuous deep red threaded with silver, chains of office around his neck and heavy signet rings on both gnarled hands.

Denisius was not precisely relieved: this was Varallo Thray, the Grand Chancellor, his authority in most matters second only to the Emperor himself. Few men or women in the court of the Chalcedony Palace commanded greater fear or respect, not merely because of the power he wielded but because he had successfully navigated the lethal politics of the Emperor's court for over thirty years. He had seen at least a dozen rivals (and perhaps even more friends) meet their end on the headsman's block or in the poisoner's chalice in that time. Rumor had it he was the only alumnus of the Academies Arcane who had both survived the Emperor's purge and maintained his position at court, but if this were true Denisius had never heard in what discipline Thray had focused.

"Denisius Lord Marhollow," said the Grand Chancellor in an unctuous voice, bowing and setting the elaborately sculpted lamp he carried for light on the edge of the table. "My deepest apologies for the delay in your audience with his Imperial Majesty and with the Princess Carala. Unforeseen circumstances have done my scheduling great harm and your person a grave disservice." He allowed a rueful chuckle to escape his thin lips, his gaze moving from Denisius to Vos and the soldier's fingers on the hilt of his sword. If it offended him, it went unremarked. "I fear you have missed the dinner hour. Shall I send to the kitchens for something to eat?"

"That won't be necessary, my Lord Chancellor. I, erm, trust his Imperial Majesty is well?" Denisius thought his voice sounded steady enough, but he could almost hear Vos groan at his lack of subtlety.

"His Majesty is quite well, I thank you for your concern." A corner of the Chancellor's mouth twitched upward, his icy gaze surveying Vos for a moment before returning to Denisius. "The Emperor thanks your father for the gift of seretto trees. The tea has had a most salutary effect on his digestion."

"Oh," stammered Denisius. He could feel sweat trickling down the nape of his neck and the small of his back. This wasn't the first time he had met Varallo Thray, but he had never been the focus of his attention in an official capacity before, and he found he did not care for the experience one bit. "Well, my mother always said so. I'll be sure to tell him the Emperor -- his Imperial Majesty -- liked them. Erm, I hope they're doing well in the climate, it's warmer here than in Marhollow."

If Vos could instruct his master to shut his fucking mouth without the Chancellor hearing it, he surely would have.

"Thriving, my lord." Thray glanced over his shoulder where, gods be praised, Quilla had sheathed his blade and appeared to be nonchalantly surveying a shelf of books on heraldry. As he turned his gaze on Denisius once more he took a step toward him. "My lord, if I could impose upon you, I would speak with you in private. If it wouldn't trouble your men, of course?"

Before Denisius could speak Vos broke in. "It troubles his men considerably, Lord Chancellor. I am under strict orders from the Lord Marhollow to keep his son safe, and on that score I'm afraid he outranks you."

Varallo Thray laughed, his hands clasped together cordially, his eyes flinty and unamused. "I assure you, my friend, your master is in no danger in Talinara, either within or beyond the walls of the Chalcedony Palace. The eyes of the Emperor are upon him. To be frank, they look upon him with great favor." The Chancellor fixed Vos with his gaze, hard and unflinching. "Do you really think the Emperor would conspire to harm a young man to whom he has promised his favorite daughter?"

Denisius, quite against his will, found himself thinking of the week-old babe the Emperor had crushed like an insect under his heel.

Vos regarded his master with a skeptical frown. "Might I ask what this is about, Lord Chancellor?" Denisius said, determined to seize control of the conversation away from his bodyguard.

"I will only say it concerns intimate details about the Princess Carala. If you choose to share those details with your servants, that is your affair, but I should like to give you the opportunity to keep her secrets, and your own." Now Varallo Thray seemed unconcerned with Vos or Quilla, his attention thoroughly concentrated on Denisius.

This was perhaps the last thing Denisius had expected to hear, nor could Vos hide the surprise on his face. Even Quilla seemed astonished. Denisius exchanged a look with his bodyguard and shook his head. "It's all right, Vos. You and Quilla can head to one of the lounges, I suppose."

"No need for that, my lord. I'd prefer you accompany me. Your men can wait for you in the kitchens. I would be happy to have them fed while they wait on us."

Denisius didn't need to be told that Vos didn't like that idea at all, but he was now too curious about what the Grand Chancellor might have to tell him about the princess to pay his bodyguard much heed. With a nod he dismissed his menservants and departed, walking side-by-side with Varallo Thray. The Chancellor seemed mollified, retrieving the lamp before taking Denisius by the elbow and leading him out of the library. Vos knew the way to the kitchens well enough, but he didn't move, watching his master and the Chancellor glide down the hallway in a pool of wavering lamplight until they had vanished into the shadows.

They passed through the furthest lounge and out of the Gloaming Wing, through an arched doorway into the cool evening fog of one of the Palace's many courtyards in total silence. Denisius was growing more and more ill-at-ease, half expecting at every turn to be led into a group of Imperial soldiers with naked blades or to the horrible sight of the Emperor's grotesque, dead bulk draped with a black silk shroud. Finally he could stand it no longer. He knew better than to inquire directly after the princess, at least. "My Lord Chancellor, I have to apologize for my man's behavior. He's a little on edge, I'm afraid -- "

Varallo Thray waved his free hand in airy dismissal. "No need for apologies, my lord. I'm well aware of the Imperial Court's reputation. And my own." He barked a low, humorless laugh. "This is an uncomfortable situation, I'm afraid, and not one with which I have much experience."

As they made their way along a path of white stones, Denisius finally saw a pair of Imperial soldiers, clad in the red-and-gray of the Emperor's personal guard. But their blades were sheathed and they only nodded cordially to the Grand Chancellor as they passed. He and Varallo Thray now stood on a broad but clearly disused stairway that snaked down the steep embankment on which the Palace had been built and into the streets of Talinara itself. When they reached a smoothly paved landing around the halfway mark, the Chancellor whisked off his hat and mopped his forehead with a handkerchief, passing the lamp to Denisius for a moment. As he fixed his hat back on his balding pate, he cleared his throat and, for the second time that evening, said something that shocked Denisius.

"I'm afraid the Princess Carala is infatuated with another man."