Chapter Thirty-Three #2
Someone cleared their throat and I begrudgingly released my wife to look over her shoulder at Pax standing in the doorway. Isla was already slipping away from me before I could tell him to find somewhere else to be for the next hour.
My wife wiggled her fingers in a goodbye wave as she slid past Pax in the threshold to stride back down the hall toward the stairs that led to the dining room below.
I was suddenly aware of the sounds of forks and knives on plates and the hum of chatter filling the air as Pax held the door open to my study with an apologetic grimace.
Waving it off, I motioned him in and he came with an acolyte who placed full plates of roasted fowl and crispy root vegetables on my desk before exiting with the snap of the door in place behind them.
Pax pulled out the supply records and I settled in for a long few hours going over them, salivating at the smell of the cooked bird before me.
We lost ourselves in the numbers and what they would mean, in the planning for pulling back some excess and setting it aside as a contingency plan in case of war.
I tried my best not to dwell on the meeting that was to come or on the fact that the evening was growing later and later, our dinner long eaten, and there was still no sign of Olympia.
But then, just as I was standing to stretch with a yawn and Pax was packing his list away in the journal he kept for that purpose, the door of my study flew open without a knock. There was only one person in this city I knew who had the audacity for that.
“It’s about time,” Pax hissed at Olympia.
She shot him a grin and strode right across the room to perch on the edge of my desk.
She reached out and picked a bit of meat still remaining on the cold bones of the plate beside her as she spoke, “I was busy. I’m here, aren’t I? And before them.”
“How are they–”
“That wife of Adrian’s brother, what was her name? Dahlia? She’s bringing them. Since everyone knows Milo here gave her a free pass up to the First, it won’t raise too many suspicions for her to be seen accessing the route up, even if she does bring some weird looking friends.”
I nodded. It didn’t matter who saw them now.
Everyone in the city knew a rebellion was brewing.
It could hardly be seen as a bad thing if we were opening ourselves up for negotiation with them.
I supposed Cosmo would find a weakness in that but we’d been on the verge of war with the Vipers long before now.
It was hardly worth worrying about them.
“Bade?” I asked.
“All tucked in at Viper for the night as far as I know,” Olympia said with a shrug, frowning as she examined the chicken bone to find no meat remaining. “I sent Nick to watch his windows but Bade’s good. If he doesn’t want to be seen, Nick won’t see him.”
Pax frowned, obviously bothered by that, but Olympia didn’t even look up from the chicken bone as she set it aside and reached for another. Before I could ask her anything more, Cleo knocked twice on the door and we all froze, knowing exactly what that meant.
“They’re here,” Pax whispered.
I nodded, turning to face the door as Olympia climbed off my desk and positioned herself in the corner, just out of sight but menacing enough for her presence to still be noted.
Pax stood and made his way to the window, taking up a stance there as if he half expected them to take a running leap out of it at some point during the negotiations.
Once they were set, I gave them each a nod in turn before calling for Cleo to allow our visitors in.
Our cousin entered a moment later, looking clearly uncomfortable with the man and woman who followed close behind her. I remembered Dahlia from her previous visit to this very study but Wolf was exactly as Olympia had described and immediately identifiable.
“Thank you for coming,” I welcomed them both with a smile and a gesture toward the seats in front of the desk I stood behind. “Dahlia, it’s a pleasure to have you again. Wolf, was it? I’m happy to meet you as well.”
“Are you?” he asked without hesitation. His tone was gruff, his voice a grating rasp.
His shrewd eyes roved over me from the curls atop my head to the fine suit down to my polished shoes before darting to both Olympia and Pax in opposite corners, taking in the finery between.
His lip curled in a sneer in the split second that examination took and I knew I had to keep things moving or risk losing him altogether.
“I was thrilled to hear you agreed to meet with me,” I said, maintaining a friendly smile despite the glares shot my way from both of them before me. “It’s important that we sit down to discuss the issues between us before resorting to more…uncivilized methods of airing our grievances.”
“Would you like to hear my grievances, rich boy?”
Dahlia rolled her eyes where she sat before shaking her head and looking away.
“I would,” I answered cheerily anyway.
“You First Ringers haven’t earned your place in over a thousand years,” he started, that raspy voice growing deeper as he leaned toward me.
His eyes blazed with hatred so hot it could burn a city to cinders if left untended.
“Our ancestors only put you up here above us because you were chosen by the gods themselves to lead, or so they say. And yet, you haven’t won their Trials in hundreds of years, but you still expect us to treat you worthy of that same preferential treatment our ancestors granted you eons ago?
Now the tables have turned and it’s one of ours who’s earned the right of the gods chosen.
We figure that makes us just as entitled to all this fine shit you have up here as you are. ”
“Dante won the Trials too, Wolf,” Dahlia hissed and I glanced her way once, surprised. Was she arguing for us?
“But so did Adrian,” Wolf growled back, turning his ire on her for a brief moment.
“And what the fuck does that have to do with you?” Dahlia spat, face burning as red as her hair.
“You didn’t know Adrian Bexley before she took on the Trials.
You didn’t know her before the Oath. But now you’re coming out to claim what she earned for yourself and you dare to say you’re any different from these up here? ”
Dahlia gestured at the other side of the table where I stood in front of Pax and Olympia and my smile faded somewhat. She was not on our side, but she wasn’t on his either.
“Our people–” he started to argue.
“There is no our people,” Dahlia snapped. “Not with them preying on us all the time and you trying to take advantage of any show of strength we manage to pull together.”
“I didn’t come here to argue with you, Dahlia.”
“Fine,” she barked and folded her arms as she collapsed back in her seat with a glare. “Go on, then. Argue with the Heir.”
Wolf’s jaw hardened and he glared at Dahlia for a moment longer before turning his attention back to me.
“As I was saying, the way the system was set up was just proven wrong,” he informed me. “As Third Ringers, we demand consideration for the same treatment your people have received for generations. Now that we’ve proven ourselves worthy–”
“Adrian Bexley proved herself worthy,” I clarified.
“She and her family were granted a home in the Second Ring as promised in the bylaws of the Trials themselves. As for a rise to the First, I’m afraid you’re lacking in your historical understanding of the nature of the rings of Sanctuary.
You see, the gods did not choose the inhabitants of the First Ring.
Victors, as determined by the Trials, were always given space in the Second Ring.
You may know of them as Valin, Chasina, Alosia, Harlowe, and Rainier, among other lesser known heroes.
The First, however, has always been reserved for the descendents of the leaders of the Three Houses which helped to Found Sanctuary in the first place.
So, you see, there is no way to ‘earn’ access to the First. Only the Second, which Adrian did. ”
Wolf settled back in his seat, entirely unperturbed by my categorically pulling apart the very fabric of his argument.
“What matters here,” he began easily, “is what people think is fair, rich boy. Not what is or was. Not how it began or how it might end but what it is. And what it is, is not fair.”
“Fair is relative. I could argue it would be entirely unfair of you to demand I give you what I’ve grown up helping to build up here in the First. Sure, I was privileged in being granted it early and being born into a family with more to speak of.
But would it be fair of you to take it from me now? ”
Wolf frowned.
“I’m not against sharing, Wolf,” I said then. “I’ve already taken more steps to open my House up to those below the First than any Heir or leader ever has and that will only continue in my reign unless, of course, you give me reason to shut my doors again.”
“You only have those doors because of the work we do in serving them, maintaining them–”
“You and I both know that isn’t true. Though it’s a pretty picture to paint for your angry citizens down there, I’m sure.
In reality, when was the last time anyone from the First requested service from anyone on the Third or the Deck?
We serve ourselves up here, or we rely on those of the Faith.
And why is that, Wolf? Why is it we don’t need your carpenters or repairmen up here fixing our broken homes? ”
His jaw clenched again and I knew I had him.
“You don’t know where it comes from,” I whispered, leaning over the desk as I pinned him to his chair with my stare.
“The wood, the nails, the hinges, the knobs. You don’t have the slightest idea where we get it.
That’s why you repurpose everything you have down on the Third.
You don’t know where it comes from. Do you? ”