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."

Only the last thing on the list sounded good to him. "Thank the Eternal Radiance," Domi said and earned a stern frown from Comitas. "Sorry."

Lips pinched in displeasure, she extended one hand toward the door. "Come along, then, Basilicus," she said. "Peritia waits for you in the garden sauna."

Sighing, Domi dragged himself obediently to his feet and followed behind her as she escorted him through the onyx palace.

<>

"I think that the easiest way to do this will be through a learning trance, Basilicus," Peritia said. The woman had taken his paenula as he'd entered the sauna and hung it on a peg on the wall.

"A what?" Domi asked, sinking gingerly to the lightly cushioned mat on the floor. Behind him, water burbled as it streamed down a black and gray marble wall into a collection basin. He was pretty sure the pleasant sound and comfy mat were going to put him to sleep, hypercane or not, if he wasn't careful. He was so tired his bones hurt.

"It's what Lumen and I did for you when the Trellis first came to you, Basilicus," a familiar voice said. Bellus smiled down at him as the man stepped into the steam room from a back chamber. "Do you remember?"

"A little," Domi said. He'd been fully unconscious for the first part of it, thankfully. Or at least caught somewhere between oblivion and full awareness of the source and meaning of the searing agony that had struck him. But then there had been flashes of water and soothing coolness. Of a dark pool and gentle ripples over a glass-like surface. And a will calmly guiding his own, drawing his thoughts through memories of relaxation and peace, of warm light and the sensation of his body balancing, effortless, atop a ledge high above Urbs Hostiae, like he was breaking into the tallest domus in the world.

Peritia nodded, nudging him to lie down. "It will be somewhat like that, Basilicus, only this time you will be awake as I guide you so that you can learn."

His heart leaped into his throat and the Trellis flared outside the sauna's tinted windows. "No no, I don't want to be awake. What if I mess up? Can't you two do it like before?"

Bellus smiled, sitting down next to him. "If you get too agitated or Peritia deems she needs greater control to prevent a problem, I will be able to intercede and guide your thoughts fully." He patted Domi's shoulder. "But let's try it this way first."

"Lumen tells me that you did very well with Dimming last eve," Peritia said. "It and Brightening both came naturally to your royal brother as well, so I am not surprised." She reached out, plucking a bit of lint from his tunica, then brushed his brow with a light touch. "Close your eyes, now, Basilicus. And relax your will when you sense Bellus's promenia. Let him in."

"I'll fall asleep if I keep my eyes closed," Domi warned. Darkness was already gathering behind his closed lids.

"I don't think you will, Basilicus," she chuckled. "I think you'll find this too interesting."

She was right. It was interesting. Weird, but interesting.

The Trellis was latched onto his nervous system, she explained, and could relay information to him about its own functioning and the status of the many systems in the world that it monitored and controlled. These were felt in his own body as various sensations. By controlling his own sensations through complex visualization techniques, he could relay commands to the Trellis to adjust the systems upon which the world relied, especially the weather control system.

The hurricane's presence was made known to him as a churning unease in the pit of his belly. Peritia explained that he'd likely caused it to form during some moment of relief, which the Trellis had misinterpreted as a command to lower the pressure over the ocean and form a cyclone. Once fed by the warm day-side sea, the storm had rapidly morphed into a hurricane.

Domi was scared the Trellis expert was going to try to stress him out or scare him or something to change the low pressure to high pressure. But she didn't. Instead, with Bellus's aid, she fed him a series of images, which appeared in his thoughts like reflections moving over a mirror's surface. He was encouraged to focus on the ones that resonated with him.

A web of yarn, woven taut between his fingers like in the popular game. The pressure of a sneeze. A firm handshake, his palm clasped in a cool, confident grip. Pressing chilly, fluffy snow together into a snowball between his palms. A tight hug.

By the time they were done with their session, he was reeling on his feet from mental and physical exhaustion and daunted by the idea that he'd one day need to be able to come up with his own crystal clear visualizations without aid, but the hurricane had dissipated.

All that was left was the horror of Saxum Exalbidum's destruction and the worldwide confusion, terror, and rage that such a thing could have happened.

"You cannot worry about that right now, Basilicus," Peritia cautioned as, allowing him to lean heavily on her arm, she guided him through a now-snowy garden and down the icy steps leading back into the palace.

Two starholders stood sentinel at the entrance, still as statues as they passed. Electi. Sidus was in command of them now until someone could be found to replace Astricus.

"How can I not worry?" Domi asked. His words were slurring a little and he forced himself to enunciate. "I did this. Destroyed a city and caused so much other damage."

Even as he said the words, it did not feel real. Not really. His mind refused to let his full feelings about such horror sink into him. His exhaustion was like a shield that shunted away thoughts and emotions he could not deal with yet. But he knew that they were lurking nearby like vultures.

Peritia answered his question in a low voice. "Sometimes grief and guilt must wait, Basilicus. The Trellis needs you to be strong right now. Focus on your duties."

That was no help. But at least fatigue was still a smothering cloak, keeping the dangerous emotions suppressed for the time being. He dreaded what might happen when he was forced to face them in truth. How in the world had Daedalus held himself separate from the Trellis when he needed to? Hadn't his brother lost his Ma and been sad and afraid at times? Yet other than the first day or so after Daedalus had become Princeps, Domi couldn't recall a single flicker of the Trellis. His twin was reserved but not emotionless. How could anyone have such control?

Comitas met them just within the door, hiding a yawn behind one hand. "Come along, Basilicus," she said, extending an arm for him to lean on. "Princeps Oliva is waiting in your bedchamber."

Domi eyed the woman's proffered arm, feeling uncomfortable. Peritia had helped him because she seemed to care. But the protocol handler was cold and stiff, and he didn't know what to make of her. She was probably only letting him lean on her because some rule in some dusty tome said it was the proper thing to do.

But refusing to accept the help was probably rude. And his Ma always said not to be a stubborn arse about accepting help when he needed it. Sighing, he placed his arm over hers and leaned on it shakily.

"By your leave, Basilicus?" Peritia said with a small smile. She'd seen him ogle the older woman's arm longer than was probably polite.

He nodded. "Yeah." He flicked a glance at Comitas as she lifted a perfectly plucked brow. "I mean yes. You may go."

<>

Princeps Oliva Florulentus was a striking woman who appeared to be in her mid-seventies, with skin like dark chocolate, steel-gray eyes and hair, and full lips. Domi found himself staring as he entered the bedchamber, unable to figure out why her face looked so familiar.

A moment later he rolled his eyes at himself. She was the Princeps Lifeholder. He had seen the old woman in the sky every New Year's observance his whole life. Of course she looked familiar.

The Princeps rose to her feet from the chair where she was waiting and inclined her head politely. "Good morning, Basilicus," she said, keen gray eyes taking him in.

Domi hoped she and Daedalus didn't know each other well. He placed a hand over his laurel and bowed his head. "May the Eyes pass over you," he said.

At his side Comitas stiffened, and the Princeps squinted at his gesture of respect and then arched a brow at his words.

Comitas cleared her throat. "He is not feeling well at all, Basilicus."

Domi frowned. He had no idea what he'd done wrong.

"So I see," the lifeholder said. "That is officially the first time I've been addressed as both liege and vassal by a peer." She held out a hand. "Basilicus, you are a little disoriented. Would you like to sit down while I examine you?" She nodded to Comitas. "I have already reviewed his medical records in the Caeles."

Domi's heart thudded in his chest at that and white light flashed outside the window, earning uneasy glances from both women. Eyes devour, he hoped Cercitis had been thorough in changing his body to match his brother's.

"On second thought," the Princeps said, pressing her lips together in clear worry as she looked at the window, "I think it would be best to get you lying down, hmm?"

Domi nodded nervously. The idea sounded fabulous, but he didn't feel comfortable lying down in their presence. They'd be towering over him, and what if the Princeps figured out that he wasn't Daedalus? It would be hard to run away if he was sprawled out in a featherbed.

It wasn't so bad once she had him situated, however. Maybe because she could see that he was uncomfortable or perhaps because her bedside manner was as good as Arbita's, she sat at the edge of the bed beside him instead of standing over him, and that was easier.

"Today I do not need your permission to examine you, Basilicus," the lower-ranking Princeps said as promenia gathered, "because the Rex himself commanded it. So if you would like to relax or even sleep while I examine you, please feel free to do so." She frowned. "You look like you need to rest."

There was no way he was going to sleep while she poked around at him with magic. Instead, he stared up at her in apprehension as the promenia she'd called sank within him like flour through a sieve. What did the expressions passing over her face as seconds turned into minutes mean? Surprise. Concern. Displeasure. Anger. He didn't like any of them.

He found himself shrinking back into the pillows behind his back as she opened her eyes, but her sharp glare was for Comitas.

"Where is his royal physician?" the Princeps snapped. "I would like to have a word with her."

"His new royal physician will arrive later this evening, Basilicus," Comitas said smoothly. "Cercitis, however, has been dismissed. The Princeps is displeased with her performance of her duties."

Domi held his breath at the lie, but the old woman just scowled. "I am most displeased as well," Oliva said, shaking her head in dismay. "His body is under incredible stress. His prometarium is inflamed, he has not been getting anywhere close to enough rest, he's running a fever, his stress hormones are through the roof, and he's a fall risk and yet has been allowed to wander around the palace. His Trellis expert says all of this is backlash from the Blightlands entering his awareness?"

"Indeed, Basilicus," Comitas said, hands folded primly before her. "I confess that I do not fully understand, but she said it was a form of Trellis backlash and that we will likely see physical and planetary symptoms for a few more days until he adjusts."

Oliva pressed her lips together. "Some symptoms I expect, but this is disgraceful. I hope his new royal physician will be far more competent." She shook her head, eyes narrowed, then smiled at Domi. "You made a wise choice replacing her, Basilicus. I can certainly understand the desire to keep your foster kin close, but you need someone more skilled. May I ask who you selected?"

Domi had no idea who he had supposedly selected. His eyes slid to Comitas. "What was their name again?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Hedera Capessere, Basilicus. The mother of your new advisor, Valens Ornnithias."

Domi could only stare. Valens's Ma was going to live in the palace and be his physician? He did not even know how he felt about that, except surprised.

Oliva looked concerned by his wide-eyed speechlessness. She glanced at Comitas. "Well, I don't want him leaving this bed today at all. Perhaps not tomorrow either, but certainly not today. He needs to rest and recover. Is it safe to make him sleep?"

Comitas nodded. "Yes, Basilicus. Peritia--the Princeps's Trellis expert--does not want anyone to induce a deep slumber, as the Princeps needs to be able to sense and control the Trellis until he readjusts. But light sedation to help him rest seems to have calmed the artifact. As long as we can wake him, it ought to be acceptable."

"Good. I will not put him under fully, then, just help him rest more effectively."

Comitas nodded but frowned. "However, Basilicus, the Rex commanded him to deliver today's Cultus sermon."

Domi felt the blood draining from his face. They wanted him to do what? Fons had mentioned a brief public appearance, but no one had said anything about preaching. The sudden surge of adrenaline made him tremble.

"Only if I deemed him well enough." Oliva glanced at Domi and grimaced at what she saw. "He's not. We'll see about next week instead if he's feeling better by then." She patted Domi's hand as the pulsing whine of her promenia changed to a soothing hum. "I would like you to sleep now, Basilicus."

She didn't exactly sound like she was asking his permission, but Domi still nodded as he slouched down into his blankets, feeling at once relieved and nervous. Thank the Eternal Radiance, he'd get a short escape from having to pretend to be the Keeper of Heaven and Earth in front of anyone with access to the Caeles. But even if he felt better next week, the idea of making a public appearance filled him with unease.

After all, he could barely read, so how was he going to write and deliver the Cultus sermon?

Shadows grew at the edge of his vision as promenia flooded him, and drowsiness lurched closer. The fretful thought chased him down into sleep.