"The provincias were established five centuries ago. Before that time, our curias were sorcerous guilds led by praetors but did not govern regions. Then, in the 345th year after the Restoration, the Rex established provincial borders and allotted one provincia to each of the four-hundred strongest curias, and with it Imperium, the praetor's right to govern. The Rex ordered weaker curias within the new provincias to merge with their new ruling curias, and most obeyed. Silvula Salutis did not. Refusing to submit, its praetor, Ampelos Erythranus, led his lifeholder curia in a successful coup against their new ruler, killing him and seizing control of the provincia. In memory of its shameful founding, the Rex renamed the conquered land Provincia Sicarii, or 'provincia of the assassin' and renamed its capital city Urbs Hostiae, 'city of the sacrificial victim'."

--from Imperium: A Glorious History
by Puteus Memoriae

*~*~*~*

Daedalus found he rather enjoyed the rustic elegance of Urbs Hostiae's collegium. Its tawny marble walls, airy open spaces, and the natural beauty of its tree-lined streets were refreshing changes from the oppressive, glowing opulence of the world capital's gilded palace complex.

He inhaled the morning air, smiling. It was colder here in this frontier provincia so near the night-side, a refreshing briskness that had nothing to do with the chill Germinating winds or yesterday's chaos with the Trellis.

Above, the lattice still glowed a cheerful gold, the faint flickers steadying by the hour. There had been no Dimming last night and thus no Brightening necessary this morn. No rains either, nor snow. Not that Aquarius needed it. Not after yesterday's steady drizzle.

Yesterday, the other Promethidae on the skychariot to Urbs Hostiae with him had been nervous. Any irregularities in the Trellis caused the common people distress, of course. But he had been comforted by the steadying glow and warmth. They meant his twin was well enough. Not stressed or fearful or hurting. Likely asleep, getting well-needed rest. Even without having had such a dangerous transfer himself, Daedalus well remembered the crushing exhaustion of those first few days after the Trellis had come to him. It was good Domi seemed to be resting well.

And besides, the cheery Trellis light over the golden and emerald city of Urbs Hostiae was especially beautiful.

He had long yearned to visit this place of serene beauty. His parents had originally hailed from here in Provincia Sicarii, in the years before his mother had become Princeps Worldholder. Verita and Ausus had been brought up as members of the local curia, Silvula Salutis, and been nurtured in this quiet, simple frontier curia's nursery, terrarium, and then conservatory schools. They had married and conceived Daedalus and Domi here, back when they had been deeply in love and looking forward to a simple life of serving together as partners in the borderlands. Verita had been about to graduate right before the terrorist attack slaughtered her royal family at a private funereal gathering in the world capital, snatched her away to the extravagance and excitement of Vola Apertus, and shoved her, fifth in line for the onyx crown, onto the Throne of Solitude.

He bit his lip as he walked the avenue winding up the hillside where all the Promethidae of this frontier capital city lived. At the top, he could see Praetor Cerasus's domus resting like a wood and leaf crown atop the verdant hill, and he peeked over his shoulder. Cerasus and Astricus trailed behind him, and his foster father gave him a small, reassuring smile. They had grown up here too, and his foster mother looked wistful as she took in the small but elegant domuses.

Many times whilst growing up, Daedalus had begged his parents and foster parents to take him to their homeland, to the quaint wooded city where they and he had been born. He had longed to see for himself how common Lightholders, lived. How he might have lived if things had been different.

But Verita had refused and been adamant in her resolve not to take him to her childhood home. And what Verita said had the force of law.

As a little child, Daedalus had believed her reluctance must be borne of ill memories or scorn. Perhaps there was bad blood between her and the curia in which she had grown up. Or perhaps, after tasting palace life in the magnificent city of Vola Apertus, she had disdained the idea of subjecting herself anew to the vulgarity of a frontier curia. After all, Comitas always says it was improper to yearn for things below one's station, although it was acceptable to admire them from within the context of their place within The Way of Things.

He shook his head. He now knew the truth, of course. His twin brother had been in Urbs Hostiae, abandoned on the street there on the very eve of their births to save Domi's life. Verita could not risk bringing Daedalus to Urbs Hostiae, where someone might notice her heir looked very similar to another boy. Not when it was custom to quietly kill younger Lightholder twins to prevent the very predicament in which they now found themselves. And so she had declined to bring Daedalus to Urbs Hostiae and had taken the secret of Domi's whereabouts with her to her grave.

But at last, Daedalus was here. Here in Provincia Sicarii, the famed rebel Assassin's Province. Here in Urbs Hostiae, the Victim's City, the city commemorating the praetor who had been slain in the coup that ushered Praetor Cerasus's usurper ancestor into power. At last, he was here in the city's walled Silvula Salutis collegium, the seat of the rebel curia's power.

It had taken twelve hours by skychariot to get here. Daedalus, his foster parents, Lumen, and Ardea had slept during the journey. It felt strange to travel without attendants or Electi. A relief, in a way. No one to pounce upon him with brush or communique or news. Just peace, for once in his life.

Even the Trellis had been quiet as he had drowsed in his sleeping chamber yesterday, as he'd rested in Valens's domus overnight, and this morning as he walked to his new Praetor's salutatio. His younger brother was likely resting, possibly even sedated to help lower the sensitivity of the link between the artifact and its new bearer. He hoped his twin would adjust well, and soon. Domi had looked quite ill in the cellar when their appearances had been altered to facilitate this swap.

Grimacing, Daedalus ran a hand through his lopped-off locks, surprised by how quickly his fingers met empty air. He could not believe Domi had willingly worn his hair like this. Daedalus had been a toddler the last time his hair had been this short, the need to wear the tri-braid for formal functions necessitating a longer style.

"Leave it be, Dae," Cercitis chided. "It looks fine."

Despite everything--his fury at her for taking his brother's life, for even convincing Domi such a thing was necessary--he found himself smiling.

Dae. She had called him Dae. And there was no protocol handler lurking nearby to stop her from being so familiar with him. No one at all except Lumen and Ardea, his new Trellis expert and private secretary, following behind him and his family at a respectful distance as they made their way to the morning salutatio.

"Do you think Praetor Cerasus knows?" he asked, nibbling his lip and then forcing himself to stop. He was not a child.

"Valens said he strongly suspects so. But let us see, hmm?" Astricus said.

Daedalus nodded. Yes, they would just have to see.

The Praetor's domus loomed before them.

<>

Cerasus eyed the boy walking down the rug toward him with four Promethidae parading behind.

The kid was solemn, yet serene, without that nervous puppy-like energy Cerasus had grown used to, so eager to take in everything and quick to smile. Or smirk. Usually smirk, like his damn aedificans.

And this boy was graceful. None of the tripping over or kicking at the long tunica and paenula, just the long, measured steps of someone born to these and other trappings of wealth and status.

And the kid's gaze was focused. His eyes were leveled straight ahead at Cerasus with calm confidence, not darting about to gawk at the Promethidae scattered around the hall.

Even with the identical face, hair, and build, it was impossible for Cerasus to even imagine that the boy who now came to a stop before him was Domi Lodicis, Valens's little Pullatus alumna.

Sweet Eternal Radiance, he was looking at Daedalus Adurere, the Principis Heres Worldholder. The boy who had ruled from the Throne of Solitude less than two days ago.

It took him several long seconds of staring like a fool to remember that he was the Praetor here and this royal was pretending to be a child of his curia. Edera's cleared throat and rolled eyes were what reminded him.

"May the Eyes pass over you this fine day," Cerasus said at last, wondering how the kid wanted to play this.

The boy lowered his hand from his laurel, unflustered by the moment of awkwardness. He was probably used to people staring and forgetting their own names around him. "And you also, Dominus." The youth met his eyes with a steady gaze, the look of someone who had been speaking to the Rex and Principia all his life and was not cowed by being in the presence of some mere frontier Praetor.

Cerasus shifted in his seat, uneasy. Unless he was misinterpreting that weighty look, the boy knew that he knew. He offered a slight incline of his head in response and the kid relaxed, elegant instead of formal.

"You must forgive this small salutatio, ah, Domi," Cerasus said, picking his words with care. "As you know, most of the curia is away responding to the damage caused by yesterday's Trellis malfunctions or on their way to Vola Apertus due to the royal summons. It's just us and of course these transfers from Penna Igneae."

The new transfers in question, all of them Empowered, studied the four newest arrivals with curiosity but not recognition. Penna Igneae was a large curia and these Empowered had likely been selected because they did not know the young former Princeps Worldholder. He hoped.

"I see," the Principis Heres said.

Edera stepped down off the dais, lips curling at the boy, and Cerasus groaned inside. Eyes devour. He cursed adolescent hormones beneath his breath. Why had he ever shown her that damn list?

"Why were you in Vola Apertus?" she asked, tilting her head up at him.

The dethroned Princeps stiffened. "I was not."

"Yes, you were." She sidled closer, peering up at him through her lashes, and Cerasus grimaced. He was pretty sure she'd picked that look up from Ros, and the idea of his daughter trying out her budding seductive wiles on anyone in his presence made him deeply uncomfortable. "I checked the Compendium after the wedding. It showed you there."

"Leave it be, Daughter," Cerasus said. "I'm sure if he was in Vola Apertus, he had a good rea--"

The boy held up a hand to silence him. "No, I assure you that I have been here in Urbs Hostiae. The Caeles must have been malfunctioning if the Compendium showed me elsewhere." He nodded politely to Edera. "As your daughter has said, it is impossible for me to have reached Vola Apertus so swiftly after the wedding, is it not, Promerenti?" Gasps spread through the chamber like waves and the Principis Heres winced. "I mean Dominus."

Cerasus closed his eyes as the crowd whispered. This was already giving him a headache. "It is all right people," he said, glaring at them to stifle the gossip. It seemed Penna Igneae was as full of busy bodies as his own curia. "The alumna was not raised among us but as a Pullatus. He's still learning to behave. Right, Domi?"

This time the boy's cheeks darkened. "Indeed, Praetor. Please forgive my rudeness. I am most sorely unschooled."

Eyes devour, the kid was going to need to learn to talk like a Pullatus, or at least a borderlands Lightholder, and fast.

"Which reminds me," Cerasus said quickly. "While Valens is away in Vola Apertus, you need an aedificans and a place to live. I would like to reassign you to Serenitas and have you live in my household."

Whispers again, this time of a more speculative nature. Serenitas, always at war with Valens over anything and everything, blinked at the news and then beamed at the prospect of claiming the other worldholder's alumna as her own. Others glanced between Edera and the boy, and Cerasus did not miss the knowing smiles and nods.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The marriage prospect was a motivation behind his invitation, he would not deny it, but it was not the primary reason. The former Princeps would no doubt need a place to adjust to his new role without scrutiny. And do whatever the hell it was, exactly, that he'd been sent here to do without prying eyes and listening ears.

"That is most kind of you, Dominus," the boy said, voice smooth. "However, the Princeps Worldholder has commanded that I am to serve as Valens's liaison and research assistant here in Urbs Hostiae. My aedificans said that I may have my choice of his domus or the conservatory dormitorium." He paused, suddenly speculative, and Cerasus could see the wheels turning. "Though if you insist on me staying with you, I will of course not turn down the generous offer."

Serenitas frowned. "Praetor, would it not be better if he lived with me for a time?" She cast the boy an apologetic look. "My understanding is that he still requires constant supervision, late as he is to his magical studies. Your duties as a Praetor make watching him nonstop impractical."

Cerasus snorted inwardly. "Valens tells me that the boy has made great progress," he said dryly. "A true prodigy." He glanced at the former Princeps, one of the most rigorously-trained sorcerers in the world. "Isn't that right?"

"Valens is too kind," the kid said without missing a beat. "But yes, I believe that he would agree with your assessment that I can now be trusted to study without a watchful eye, Dominus." He inclined his head politely to Serenitas. "Though I look forward to continuing to advance my studies with you, Aedilis."

Cerasus slapped his thighs. "Then it is decided." He nodded at the boy. "You will live with me and I will provide you with whatever resources your aedificans wants you to have for the work the Princeps Worldholder has assigned the two of you. And you will continue your studies with Serenitas as a conservatory student. Does this work?"

"It sounds most agreeable, Dominus."

"Wonderful." He sighed, eying his daughter and hoping he'd not regret this. "Edera, please give him a tour of his new home, as I am sure he has forgotten the way."

"My pleasure, father," she said, and he never wanted to hear that low, flirtatious tone from her again, nor see the boy's sudden flush.

"You are all dismissed."

<>

The boisterous voice startled Domi out of sleep.

"Eternal Radiance, he's still out?" a woman exclaimed. "It's been what, twenty-one hours since Princeps Oliva had him rest?"

"The Princeps Lifeholder said to let him sleep as much as he needs." That was Valens, sounding testy as usual. Domi would have dragged a pillow over his head to drown him out, but that required energy he didn't have. "We've just been waking him long enough to give him water."

Domi didn't remember that. Or care to remember. He just wanted them to shut up and go away so he could let sleep wash over him again.

"Oh, the poor child!" The bloody woman's voice was like nails pinning him to the waking world. "Well, he's really out cold then, isn't he?" Promenia hummed and Domi felt it draw near to his body. It's soothing bellsong reminded him of Arbita, though the voice accompanying it wasn't hers. Another lifeholder, then, probably. Sighing inside, he relaxed and let her promenia in, not bothering to open his eyes. They felt like heavy weights anyway. "Ah," the woman said.

"He won't stay out for long if you don't lower your voice, Ma." Valens sounded almost as annoyed as Domi felt.

Something about that word... Ma...

Domi froze, holding his breath.

"Come now," Hedera said, "he needs to at least get up long enough to eat a bit. And you can't stop an avia from gushing over her nepos."

"You can't call him that in public, Ma." Now Valens sounded exasperated. Domi reconsidered pulling a pillow over his ears. He'd rather throw one at his aedificans and the man's Ma. Why wouldn't they shut up and go away?

"Oh, I can't? I will call everyone that. The servants. That Trellis woman. Our grouchy friend Comitas. Bellus. By the time I'm done, no one will think twice about me calling him it, too, mark my words."

"You can't be serious, Ma. He's the Princeps Worldholder now. You can't just address him with the same stupid pet names you give his servants."

"I am his royal physician, now." Her voice sounded smug. "And I say a child needs normal human affection in his life, my dear icicle of a son. It is important for his health. And what will they do about it, dismiss me? Come now."

"Ma--" Valens broke off with a snort. "Actually, why do I bother?" He sighed. "So, when do the rest of you arrive?"

"Oh, they're all here."

"What do you mean that they're all here?"

"They're gathered in the salutatio hall. And quite eager to meet your alumna."

"You told them?" Valens growled. "What part of 'top secret' don't you understand?"

"Oh settle down, boy. Of course I didn't blab. Comitas did. We just got out of the three-hour briefing about this delightful subterfuge. We all know our roles in this play." A hand brushed Domi's brow, his cheek, the cool touch comforting against unpleasant warmth. Her voice was closer, right over him and he held himself still as stone. If they didn't know he was awake, maybe they'd decide to let him sleep. "So, can they come in?"

"He is not even awake, Ma, so--"

"He is." Her hand patted Domi's shoulder as his heart sank. "He's listening, I think."

Eyes devour. Of course the lifeholder had sensed he was awake, with her promenia still humming away.

"Eavesdropping, you mean." Valens sounded more exasperated than annoyed. "Domi..."

He opened his eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Hedera, standing at his bedside, frowned at Valens. "You should not call him by his name. Even when alone." She shook her head. "Get in the habit of calling him Basilicus as much as possible."

Valens gave the lifeholder an incredulous look. "Yet you're going to call him Nepos?"

"Everyone, Son. They'll all be Nepos to me." She glanced down at Domi, ruffling his hair. "But you can't very well call Daedalus Adurere 'Domi' without raising brows, now can you?"

Valens grimaced but nodded. After a moment he sighed and glanced at Domi. "Basilicus, do you feel well enough to meet my family?"

"You have more family?"

His aedificans gave him a scornful look. "Again, I did not hatch from stone, Basilicus." He managed to make the honorific sound like an insult. "Yes, I have a family. A father, an elder brother, and two elder sisters."

"Enixe recently let us know they are nonbinary," Hedera corrected.

"Oh." Valens nodded. "Alright. So, is it just those four, or also all their spouses, lovers, and children?"

"Um..." Eternal Radiance, that was a lot of people. Domi liked people well enough, but this sounded overwhelming.

"It will just be the four of them today," Hedera told Valens, then shifted her attention to Domi, "and only if you feel ready, Nepos."

"Do I have to get up?" He was tired and his blankets were warm and soft.

Hedera's lip twitched. "You are not allowed to leave this bed. Princeps Oliva's orders." Her eyes narrowed. "And mine."

Domi relaxed into the pillows, relieved. "Alright, I'll meet them."

<>

Valens gave his alumna one more assessing glance. The kid looked weary still and pale but for the bright spots high on his cheeks from the lingering fever, but better than he had the day before. At forty-two hours since the Trellis had claimed him, he was nearly through the adjustment period.

He glanced at Merula, sitting in a chair at the boy's bedside. "Well? He's your son. What do you think?"

She and Arbita exchanged a glance, then looked at Hedera. Valens grimaced. He was beginning to get a strong sense of where he was going to be wanted when it came to his bloody alumna's well-being. Dead last.

"He's alright," his Ma pronounced. She was really going to lord her new position over them all, he could already tell. The only thing worse than a grandmother or avia was one with formal legal authority. "Let them in."

Valens sighed and, glancing toward the door, nodded for Fons to admit his family.

Enixe came first, of course, as they did in all things except worldholding skill, in which Valens excelled. First in academic excellence, first in every athletic exertion, first to try new experiences, first to spout off witty explanations. His overachieving eldest sibling.

They wore their hair shaved close to their scalp now, a look that suited their sharp features and made the topaz eyes they and the rest of Valens's siblings shared with him and their mother stand out even more than before.

Behind them, Potens was the same as ever, striding into the room in a rush of energy and cheer. Beaming, he surged toward Valens whether the younger worldholder liked it or not, embracing the more slender man in a tight hug and pounding his back with hearty slaps. "You're moving up in the world, little brother," he said, booming voice expanding to fill the whole room.

"For the Eternal Radiance's goddamn sake, let him go before you squeeze the life out of him," his sister, Amnis, said as, shaking her head, she strode into the room and pried her younger brother off and then straightened Valens's paenula with a snort.

Last came Valens's father, Urbane, smiling a wry smile as he meandered calmly into the bedchamber. He sighed as he took in the rest of the family, a scandalized Fons, and an amused Merula and Arbita, then placed one hand over his black laurel and turned to Domi. The others hurried to copy him as Hedera rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Ah, may the Eyes devou-- erm, pass over you," Domi said, wide-eyed as he took in everyone.

Valens couldn't blame him. His family was large for a group of Promethidae, who tended to lose their fertility quickly compared to Pyrrhaei when they had it at all. And every last one of them, except for their Ma, was a worldholder, accustomed to life in the wilds. They often forgot their more courtly graces.

"And also you, Basilicus," the family said, voices overlapping in a jumble of words.

Valens sighed and introduced everyone one by one. "This is Merula, the foster mother of our new Princeps; Arbita, my new wife and," he felt his cheeks heating as they eyed her speculatively, "mother of our unborn daughter; and Domi, my new alumna and your new Princeps Worldholder."

Domi slouched into his covers as everyone stared at the boy. "Well met, ah, Promerentis."

"So, Basilicus," Enixe drawled, the first to break the awkward silence, "How did you get stuck with this sourpuss for an aedificans?" They jerked their head toward Valens.

The kid grinned, relaxing. "That's a long story."