The fire crackled as a servant added more wood to it. Roast animals were slowly turned above the flames, the centrepieces for the feast Diabo was throwing.
He could, through the corner of his eye, see the way Zorzal was eyeing it, nearly watering at the mouth.
It settled Diabo's nerves. His brother had in recent months begun to exhibit behaviour that was rather unlike him, so something once more in character was a calming reminder that Zorzal was still the gluttonous and hedonistic brute he had always been. Even if it turned out he had some hidden depths for poetry and oratory.
Diabo mentally shook his head as he pushed the doubts aside. His brother was a bully, of course, the poetry about war and glory would appeal to him. That he had some skill at stirring the hearts of men, well, Diabo would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous, but he supposed it wasn't that surprising, given his time as a commander. He probably learned it while on campaign, from his more experienced officers.
"My apologies, my thoughts wandered," He said to his conversation partner. "You were saying?"
"No apology necessary, Your Highness," The senator waved it off. "I tend to ramble on."
"Oh, no, not at all," Diabo said easily. "Your words simply made me think. My father does command an… unprecedented amount of power over the senate. In times, such arrangements made sense; after all, an army cannot be led by consensus among the soldiers. But you had an excellent point about the purpose of the Senate, as well."
"Indeed," The senator nodded before taking a sip of his wine. "Ah, a good vintage, an excellent choice your Highness. But as I was saying, there are other members of the Senate who hold similar views. We are not calling for the Emperor, or his heir, to relinquish their rightful powers, merely that they return some of the Senate's powers to see to it that the duties of the Senate are properly carried out."
"Sadly, I doubt my father would see it that way," Diabo made a show of sighing in sympathy. "He no doubt plans to prop Pina up as a puppet for himself, while he retires, and let her slowly take over fully by the time he passes. My sister is many things, but I fear she is unsuited to the role of leading a nation. Not to mention, she is alarmingly close to NATO."
"Oh, indeed," The senator nodded, then caught themselves. "Ah, not that your sister is incapable, of course, but… I question the Emperor's sense when there are other alternatives to her, that are much more capable."
"Oh?" Diabo hid his smile behind his own wine glass. The words were false, disguising the true conversation, but it was this sort of arena that Diabo thrived. "My brother, perhaps?"
"Ah, indeed," The senator said with only a slight blink of surprise. "True, his political strength is settled in the military, but with your assistance, and his glory, I and many others believe Sadera would be in good hands."
Diabo gave a polite thanks to the compliment, to acknowledge the pledge of support, before continuing his rounds around the feasting hall. His Lapis palace was not as prestigious as Zorzal's Silver Palace, or the Emperor's Imperial Palace of Sol, but it was by no means small. It was, after all, fit for a prince of the Empire.
Yet, the number of people present seemed to threaten the sheer size of the gargantuan hall. The cooks were hastily preparing the first course, due in an hour as the sun began to wane outside, but he had no fear about them failing to meet his standards. He selected only the best of the best, barring those chosen for the emperor.
From his scribes and cooks, down to the cleaners and guards, he made sure they were well-paid, skilled, and fully aware of what would happen if any of them let rumours be spread. Zorzal was insulated by his reputation, people expected certain behaviour from the lout, and that kept any controversy from sticking to him.
Diabo was not so well protected. He had an image and a reputation to maintain, one that required finesse, skill, charm, wit, and attention to detail. It could not tolerate controversy turning his political allies into his foes, not before he was prepared to deal with them, anyway.
Politics was a delicate game, requiring a willingness to use underhanded methods to achieve one's goals, not like fighting. While neither were clean, in Diabo's eyes, there was no real skill to fighting, armies simply marching up to each other and bludgeoning with formations away until one side won.
Politics required tact, subterfuge, acting, and strategy beyond merely putting troops into places.
Besides, with politics, one could end wars before they started, without cutting taxes by sending farmers off to die.
Secure in his superiority, Diabo quietly continued to plot, his plan of being the power behind his brother on the throne coming to fruition as many senators pledged their support.
He never noticed the two pairs of eyes, subtly watching him. One with scorn from the shadows, as one might look down on a particularly annoying pest. The other, with a sly look of a fox, whose prey was stumbling straight into its jaws.
Pina, across the inner city, greeted her guests as they joined her at the Jade Palace.
"Senator Tiberius, Marquis Palesti, welcome," She gave the senator and nobleman, as well as their accompanying families, a warm smile. "Marquis, your daughter is just at the entrance of the gardens, if you wish to speak with her. My cooks have several foreign delicacies being prepared, obtained from Alnus."
"Oh?" Marquis Casel El Tiberius glanced at her. "I don't suppose you would be willing to give us a hint as to what those might be?"
"Spices, meats, wines," Pina answered. "More than a small selection. My knights spent some time compiling a list of what we could acquire."
"Hoping to reinforce the pressure for a treaty, and establish trade?" Casel asked, catching Pina's plot rather quickly.
Marquis Palesti gave a polite chuckle, before making his excuses and leading his family off.
Pina gave Bozes' father a nod of acknowledgement, before sighing at Casel's deduction.
"It was that obvious?"
"It was," He shrugged. "But given the audience and your allies, the correct move."
The elderly senator gave her an encouraging smile.
"While I have my disagreements with your father, I agree that a war with NATO is not in the Empire's interests," He said. "But, if we are to broach such a topic… perhaps it might wait, or shall we head to a balcony?"
Pina nodded and led the way to an upper floor, well away from the chatter of the party. The Senator sent his family off to enjoy it, as he followed the Imperial Princes. Quickly, the sounds of people loudly speaking became muffled by decorated stone and timber.
"Now," Casel noted a knight staying nearby the Princess, just out of direct sight. One of Pina's guards. "I assume those nearby are those you trust?"
"I do," Pina replied. "What is this about?"
"Both of your brothers have been gathering power, in coordination. I cannot in good conscience tolerate either of them taking the throne," The senator said as a cool evening breeze drifted over them. "There have also been murmurs of senators and nobles with… less than perfect principles being blackmailed. Secret heirs, assassinations, Dar in the city. It is alarming."
"Are you suggesting my brothers are planning a coup?" Pina fought to keep her tone from becoming raised or accusatory. The balcony was isolated, but the sound could still carry.
"No, no," Casel shook his head. "I am saying that elements of the nobility are becoming restless, and I fear your brothers may make use of this. Despite the Emperor, the Senatoria Familia has always been cutthroat and power hungry."
"Aside from yourself, that is," Pina jibed.
"I was born to a baron and rose through service to the emperor. It is why my dissent is tolerated, I am a voice of reason," He quoted an old phrase. "'Respice post te. Hominem te esse memento. Memento mori!'; 'Look behind. Remember thou art mortal. Remember you must die!'. The Emperor tolerates me because I remind him not all blindly follow him. It likely helps that I have demonstrated greater interest in the Empire's health than in power. I would not be a senator, if not for the Emperor choosing to reward me."
Pina shook her head.
"Regardless, what are you suggesting I do about it?"
"Nothing you are not already doing," Casel shrugged. "Keep seeking allies, look for opportunities. But, know this, I know I can trust you to have the Empire's interests at heart, thus, I believe you are the best person to rule. You have my support, should you have need of it, and my counsel."
"Thank you for your pledge of support, senator," Pina nodded. "Please, enjoy the party."
After the senator left, Pina remained and looked out over the city from the balcony. Her heart clenched. While heartening to receive such support, Pina wasn't sure she could trust him. She wasn't sure she could trust anyone, thanks to her fears and doubts.
How many of her knights were in Zorzal's camp, merely bowing to oaths and obligations? How many senators were simply looking to be close to the next heir?
Was her father and Senator Tiberius correct in believing she was the best choice?
Dimmu clamped his jaw shut as he coughed. The damp air of the old palace, buried underneath the city of Sadera and excavated by the Haryo's predecessors, made his lungs ache. He hated this place. It smelled of rot, decay, and pain.
Forcing his twisted body straight, he kept walking. A guard, a mix of a human, Dar, elf, and dragonkin, only glanced at him before returning to huddling in front of a small fire.
Dimmu ignored him and the ache in his body. The whispers of Palapon, his god and the god of revenge, guided him to his destination.
It had only taken a few weeks of being seen in the right places for the guards to become accustomed to his presence. He was, after all, one of them. Born and raised as a member of the Haryo, the product of the previous leader's breeding program, to achieve the ideal mixes of blood, to create a perfect chimera.
Instead, Dimmu was born a twisted thing, like the rest of those born from the project. His health frail and his body barely able to sustain itself. The failure wasn't enough to condemn them, their minds came out sharp, with many having talents for magic.
But it was enough that the previous leader was ousted and a young firebrand took his place. Bouro couldn't stand the sight of the wretches. Worse, many were smarter than him.
Dimmu had gotten lucky when the others were purged. He had been close enough to a merchant's caravan that he could sneak out of the city with it. Not just close physically, but also holding some level of camaraderie with the merchant, aiding him with currency and trade secrets.
Travelling with the merchant had opened his eyes to what the world was like beyond Sadera. The books the merchant gifted him, on the Warrior Bunnies, however, left a far greater impression.
The first Haryo were born from Dar, according to the tales. The Dar were then absorbed by the only native race of Falmart, born from the composite creatures that could take the traits of any parent. The remaining Dar were in fact chimera, like himself.
But the Warrior Bunnies, claimed to be a 'pure' race and alien to the world… were the same. Their offspring, while slanted towards female births, could be the product of any race. Yet, the Haryo had maintained that the Warrior Bunnies were not natives.
It made him start to question everything he knew.
Until, one day, he encountered a priest of Palapon. The offer from the god was tempting. Life, to sustain his failing health despite his relative youth at the time, to see vengeance on Bouru, not only for the others purged, but also for the lies spread that poisoned the very air the Haryo breathed.
The price was cheap, he had thought. In truth, both of them had been surprised at how hard it had been to uncover the truth of the tale of vengeance that predated Palapon's godhood.
That it now led to the birth of a goddess to hold dominion over Apocryph and who was also Hardy's lover was an even greater surprise.
But now, revenge would soon be his.
Dimmu smiled to himself as he entered Bouro's office. Once, it had been a throne room, perhaps Sol's own when he was only a demigod. Now, it lay in ruin, the tiles on the floor and walls long fallen away, the throne removed, and dirt piled in corners.
Without a word, he bowed to the leader of the Haryo, placing a letter on the desk, before departing. Instead of leaving, he slipped into a shadow, near the door, just so, making it appear as if he had left. Moments later, Bouru went rushing past.
The idiot hadn't recognised him after all this time and so believed him to merely be a loyal, braindead lackey.
Dimmu stepped out of the shadow. Abandoning his forced gait, he hurried over to the shelf. A mental clock ticking. From his tattered robes, an otherworlder device was pulled out.
The whispers of Palapon guided his hand to pull down the best book for his purpose.
Three dozen flashes of the camera later, and the ledger was returned to its place, Dimmu left the complex entirely, vanishing into the Saderan night with a single question on his mind.
Who would be best to give this evidence to?
Pina yawned as the last of the guests left, either to the guestrooms or back to their estates within the city.
Her doubts remained, but she had received several more pledges of support, mostly from the families of her knights, but that numbered more than a few Senators and a large number of nobles.
She started for the stairs, her bed her aim, when the rapid footfalls of a servant caught her attention.
She sighed and waited for what she expected to be news of a guest who had drank too much and passed out, or perhaps some wine had been stolen.
"Princess, this letter was left at the servants' entrance," The servant panted, pale and shaken. "It… I think you should see what is inside."
Pina took the letter; a folded packet of cheap paper. Not something easy to obtain by a commoner, but it was also too frail for a noble to have bothered with.
Part of her expected some sort of threat as she opened it.
Instead, she found something that made her blink. Squares of material, otherworlder in nature.
But on them were images of pages from a ledger of some sort. It took Pina a moment to read the first page of the group, and it made her heart drop.
"It would seem the senator's rumours were worse than we thought," She muttered. Her mind immediately assumed he was responsible before she corrected herself. He wouldn't have access to otherworlder materials like this.
"Thank you for delivering this," She told the servant. "Go, get some rest. In the morning, I will speak to my father."