Drawing a deep breath, Sidus knocked on the closed blackwood door.

A sniffle rose inside. Then nothing.

He sighed and knocked again.

"Leave me alone!"

The starholder winced. Eternal Radiance, the kid had some lungs on them. They were going to wake everyone in the servant wing.

"Come now," he said, pitching his voice a little louder than he would to be heard by a fellow Promethides, remembering that Pyrrhaei were hard of hearing. "I just want to talk to you."

For a moment there was dead silence, filled only by the Six Stars' incessant pulsing. Then--

"I don't want to talk to you!" Radix roared.

In the room next door, someone cursed.

Sidus spared the neighboring door a glance but after a moment it remained closed. Whatever poulterer or scullion was within didn't want to get up at midnight to deal with the noise, it seemed.

"Can I at least have my paenula back?" he asked.

Sullen silence. Then a rustle. A scuff.

Finally, the door opened and a glaring, teary Radix shoved a bundle of warm clivia fiber cloth into Sidus's arms. "Now go away," they snarled, turning to go.

"Wait--" He slipped his foot in the ajar doorway before Radix could close it. And earned a flash of narrowed amber eyes and a firm kick to the shin. "Ow!" he yelped, stumbling back.

The redhead slammed the door in his face.

"You know," he said conversationally to the blackwood, "it is unlawful to assault a Promethides." He bent to rub his throbbing leg, half worried that Radix would throw the door open and knee him in the face or something.

"So kill me," they snapped. "See if I care." They sounded close to the door.

Sidus sighed, sliding to the ground and resting his back against the door. He was tired, this ague getting the better of him, but he didn't think this should wait. His mother always said it was best not to allow fresh wounds to fester, and the lifeholder didn't just mean physical ones.

"He and I cannot wed either," he said, pitching his voice just loud enough for them to hear. He began unfolding his returned paenula in his lap. "It isn't pleasant to be deprived of that just because we're both boys. I know it must hurt not to be allowed to wed him just because you're a Pyrrhaeus."

"At least you get to be with him," Radix hissed. They were right on the other side of the door, maybe even leaning against it as he was. "He would marry you if he could. But me?"

"Oh, I think he would marry you if that were an option," Sidus corrected and kept thinking out loud as he pulled the paenula over his head. "I don't know if he loves you the way a man might hope to love a spouse, but I bet if you were a conjugal match he would grab you right up in a heartbeat."

"Yeah right," they scoffed. "He does not want me. He made that clear."

"I don't know about that." He straightened the paenula over his tunica. "The Trellis reacted when you kissed him. He's at least a little attracted."

It had surprised Sidus if he was perfectly honest with himself. But in retrospect, Domi's feelings made sense. The boy and nonbinary kid had grown up together, after all. And the Pullatus was attractive. Sidus was not inclined their way but he got the impression that Domi was drawn to all genders. He grinned. The boy had certainly been drawn to Felicitas.

"So what?" Radix grumbled. Their voice on the other side of the wood came from right next to his ear. "You got him first."

The starholder chuckled. "I was not aware it was a race."

"No, I mean--"

"No no, I know," he said. Pyrrhaei jealousy and possessiveness in this regard had never made sense to him. "Radix, you do know that you're welcome to pursue him, right? I mean, I'm not going to stand aside for you, but I won't stand in your way either. If he wants you that way, and you him, I can share."

"You can share?" they sputtered, and then a moment later their voice quieted. Under their breath, so softly they probably thought he couldn't hear, they muttered, "Promethidae really are weird."

Sidus laughed. He was beginning to see how it might seem that way to the Pyrrhaeus. "Yes, we are." He tilted his head. "So, are you going to try?"

"You're not worried that I will snatch him away from you?" Radix sounded incredulous.

Sidus smiled, remembering Domi melting into his arms a few minutes ago as they had kissed on the roof and trembling at his gentle touches. "No," he chuckled, "I'm not worried. I know that he likes me. But I am willing to share. I think his heart is big enough for both of us."

"But Edera--"

"They will have their own relationship. I don't know what it will be, honestly. But that is their business. We can have our own relationships with him, too."

There was silence on the other side of the door. He nodded to himself and rose to his feet. "Think on it," he said. "Good eve, Radix."

Their voice, when it filtered back to him, was so soft that he almost didn't hear the words this time. "Good eve, Sidus."

<>

It took Domi five tries to send his request through the Caeles. And not because he didn't know how to do it or because Valens kept dissolving Domi's promenia and then sending his own curt Caeles messages to "go to bed, Alumna."

At least, those weren't the only problems. No, sending the Caeles request took five tries because of the fear. He couldn't breathe deeply enough to claim much promenia, anxiety squeezing his throat like a fist even as the promenia kept falling from his grasp like sand through relaxed fingers.

Once he summoned promenia and managed to hold onto a particle, he couldn't visualize the Caeles's gray mists or crystallize his intention into anything specific. The acidic terror dissolved his attention and burned away his resolve.

Thank the Eternal Radiance for the nasty herb Hedera had given him at bedtime six hours ago. He was pretty sure his fifth attempt to enter the Caeles and send his request succeeded only because the medicine wouldn't let his body stay anxious very long.

If only the fear draining away didn't leave him so drowsy. He needed to be awake for this. To have all his wits about him.

Princeps Buccina responded ten seconds after he sent his message.

Domi didn't expect her so soon. In the morning maybe, after she devoured thirty minds for breakfast or whatever the woman did to maintain her creepy illusory appearance. But the middle of the night? Shouldn't she be sleeping?

"Shouldn't you, Basilicus?"

Domi jumped at the words, which reverberated through the gray mists like a thousand voices, each different. Men, women, children. Piping, rumbling, crooning.

He whirled around, shocked to find one woman standing before him in the drifting mists instead of an army. "Princeps Buccina!"

She looked like she had the two times now that he'd seen her, except there were flickers now of other people in the blond hair, green eyes, and pale skin. A glint of spectacles. Warm brown eyes--no, gray with dark circles beneath. A shadow of close-cropped black hair. A braided bun, perched like a nest atop a skeletal face. The bushy white brows of an old man. A little girl's wide, innocent eyes.

He gulped as she strode toward him. "M-may the Eyes pass over--"

She held up a graceful hand. "No need for that, child. Peers are not addressed in that way."

He sucked in a breath, cursing inwardly at the slip. "Of c-course. I forgot." An excuse. He needed an excuse to explain the lapse, just in case everyone was wrong and she really didn't know he was fake or in case she knew and the only reason she was letting him live was that she had decided he could keep the enormous scandal hidden from the public, or-- "My physician gave me the medicine you said to take and it made me forget and--"

"Domi."

He jerked at the sound of his name and his face chilled with a rush of dizziness as the blood drained from his head.

She knew. Of course, she knew. He'd guessed it already. But she wasn't hiding her awareness anymore and what did that mean?

A high-pitched ringing filled his ears that, for once, had nothing to do with the Trellis.

Through tunneling vision, he saw compassion fill the Princeps Mindholder's face even as she glanced up at brilliant flashes in the churning mists. "Take a deep breath, dear boy," she said, and though she was no starholder, the tone left no room for defiance.

He obeyed, sucking in a strained breath, body shuddering with the effort.

Palms cupped his face, and he didn't know whether to jerk free or sob against her chest. "No harm will come to you at my hand," she murmured. She flicked a glance up above them as the sky flared white. "A breath." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Now." She nodded encouragingly as he drew a shuddering gasp. "Another. Very good. And another. Calm down now."

"C-can't you make me c-calm?" he whimpered. His face felt hot and sweaty, but the ringing in his ears had given way to the Trellis's normal golden hymn.

"I can make you forget your fear. It is better that you master it yourself, however. Keep breathing." Green eyes tilted up at the calming sky. "Good, just like that."

"You k-know, don't you? Not just my name. Everything." He was terrified to ask while his face was caught between her hands, but he had to know. He couldn't take the uncertainty anymore.

She inclined her head, strawberry blond curls spilling over her shoulders. "Some." She stroked his cheek soothingly, fingertips brushing at tears he had not even realized were there. "I know that you are Daedalus's younger twin and that the two of you switched places. I have located his mind in Provincia Sicarii and know that he is well. I know that you bear the Trellis in truth and that it believes you are your brother. What I do not know is how or why this happened."

"W-what are you going to do?" He dreaded the answer, yet he had to know.

She released him at last. "Nothing yet." She tilted her head. "You are surprised."

He wondered if her powers told her that, the echoes of his own emotions in the Caeles, or his expression. He felt naked and yet at the same time unsure how exposed he really was. The uncertainty was scary.

But not as scary as he was. "I'm dangerous," he admitted, holding his arms tightly around himself. He thought she could use her powers to soothe him and wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that she didn't. "Dangerous t-to everyone."

Buccina nodded, her expression sober. It was weird how her illusory blond curls, perfect even in the middle of the night, bobbed just so with the movement. "As is every Princeps Worldholder, if out of control." Green eyes studied him. "But you seem to be learning to handle the Trellis. I believe that Solitude will further stabilize you if you make wise use of this time." She fixed him with a stern glance that was an odd blend of Arbita's gentleness, Hedera's warmth, and Merula's steel. "Which includes getting adequate rest."

He winced. It was six hours past the early bedtime Solitude imposed. "Erm, yeah. I will, soon." He gulped, hoping what he needed to ask wouldn't make her change her mind about revealing him. "But I wanted to ask you to approve something really important, and it couldn't wait." Edera would be arriving soon if she had not already. "It'll require me to violate the terms of my Solitude a bit."

The Princeps sighed and abruptly Domi wondered if the woman was a mother. With the illusion to hide her true age, she might even be a great grandmother five times over for all he knew. "What is it?" she asked.

He tried on an uncertain smile. "I... I need you to let a girl past your no-friends rule. And then let me break Solitude enough to, erm, marry her."

For a long, long moment, Buccina just stared at him. If she thought or felt anything, her expression showed no hint even as it wavered through images of several different people.

At last, she said, "I will consider it, on one condition."

He heaved a sigh of relief. Everything with Edera would be hard to pull off if she wasn't allowed to even enter the palace, let alone marry him. "What? I'll do anything. This is important."

The Princeps fixed him with an unyielding look, and hundreds of other faces echoed the expectant expression. "You must tell me everything. And you must keep me abreast of your future plans so that I can assist you." She shook her head, her perfect curls swaying. "This secret is too big, and with too grave of consequences, for you to continue trying to navigate this alone."

"Why are you willing to help me?" he asked, astonished, grateful, and suspicious all at once.

She looked away to the swirling mists, and her gaze was even more distant. "I had twin daughters, once," she murmured and swallowed hard as he stared in shock. "Now I have but one daughter." There was quiet pain in the simple but brutal words. She smoothed invisible wrinkles from her paenula as she looked back at him. "I would rather not see any other woman's child killed simply for being born."