Astrala smiled politely as Lady Mingus's younger sister, Iris, bustled into the parlor in a flutter of silk skirts. The excitable woman had made it her personal mission to befriend the newly ennobled Astrala since her arrival at court. While well-meaning, Iris' constant chatter tested even Astrala's steady patience.

"Lady Astrala, wonderful to see you here!" Iris exclaimed, breezing over to kiss Astrala's cheek. "Though of course we would run into each other at Lady Banore's infamous weekly teas. Simply everyone attends them."

"Just so," Astrala agreed neutrally, hoping Iris would not decide to sit by her. But the voluble woman promptly took the empty seat at Astrala's side. Resigning herself, Astrala nodded along as Iris launched into a stream of palace gossip and social tidings.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the most delightful news!" Iris continued breezily. "I've convinced the social secretary to make you guest of honor at next lunar gala! It will be such fun."

Astrala's stomach sank. The thought of some lavish celebration held expressly in her name filled her with dread. Courtly revels still felt more foreign than festive.

"How lovely," she managed weakly. "But I would not wish to distract from more highborn ladies of pedigree."

Iris waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense, you sell yourself short! The people are always eager for diversion. Your quaint provincial origins lend such charm."

Privately Astrala bristled at being trotted out as some rustic curiosity. But outwardly she maintained a gracious smile.

As Iris nattered on about gala preparations, Astrala's thoughts turned wistful for her simple life back home. She took no joy in these frilly frivolities, nor the disingenuous smiles hiding petty intentions.

Yet Iris's artless enthusiasm held no guile, merely a longing for connection. Astrala felt her frosty resentment thawing despite herself. For Aeron's sake, building unlikely friendships was not without merit either.

So she pushed aside regret and turned fully to Iris with a genuine smile. "I look forward to experiencing the gala with such lively company."

Iris beamed and squeezed her hand excitedly. As they unpacked all the elaborate plans, Astrala's homesickness eased just a fraction. Kind hearts yet beat beneath courtly facades. She would find the light if she but had patience to seek it.

***

Keith paced angrily as Gideon and Jasper watched with mounting concern. "This cannot continue! Your laxity leaves the emperor vulnerable."

Gideon tensed but remained diplomatically silent. Jasper, less so.

"Mind your accusations," the normally reserved man warned. "We serve faithfully as Aeron requires, not as you dictate."

Keith whirled on him furiously. "Then your service has become poisoned by familiarity and laughter, not protective zeal." He glared between them. "While you whisper secrets in shadowed halls, true dangers go unheeded."

"This again?" Jasper retorted, incensed. "Perhaps if you climbed down from your lofty pedestal, you would see Aeron is simply human, not your mythical divine icon."

"How dare you speak so of the Thorneborn!" Keith shouted, hand dropping to his sword hilt.

But Gideon swiftly intervened. "Peace, my friends. Our discord benefits none, least of all Aeron." Though soft-spoken, his firm tone brooked no argument.

Chastened, Keith drew back, mastering himself. "You are right, of course. But we must address this rift." He met their eyes solemnly. "The three of us should stand united around Aeron, now more than ever. Things...progress toward crisis."

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Jasper's anger faded as he took in Keith's genuine worry. "Then let us discuss this rationally. If you know of threats, share them openly so we might together determine how best to protect Aeron."

Keith hesitated, then nodded. "Very well. But what I reveal cannot pass beyond us. Swear this to me."

The others gave their oaths. With the secrets of a brewing shadow faction laid bare, their quarrel was set aside in the face of this shared peril to Aeron's reign. Keith rested easier, knowing he had allies again in the tasks ahead. The coming darkness would test them all.

***

Mingus kept her expression neutral as she observed Aeron conferring familiarly with the envoy from House Phoenixwright. But internally, she seethed at this further erosion of her influence.

Once, House Blackturtles stood unrivaled in prestige, called first to counsel every Thorneborn emperor. Yet since Aeron's coronation, he had increasingly shut her out while elevating lesser houses like Blanche's.

This latest slight stung all the more coming so soon after Aeron rejected her recommendation for the vacant imperial magistrate post, instead appointing that troublesome priestess Ceils.

"Your Eminence, might I have a word when you are free?" Mingus inquired politely, not letting her irritation show. "A trivial matter, but I would claim a moment of your time."

Aeron looked vaguely uneasy but nodded. "Of course, Matriarch. I shall come to you shortly." Dismissed again like an importunate servant! Mingus smiled tightly, giving the proper obeisance before withdrawing.

To lose face so publicly gnawed at her. She had spent decades ruthlessly fortifying the Blackturtles' power, one of the few female heads to gain prominence among the patriarchal houses. Now her ambition was reduced to begging audiences like some lowly petitioners.

Well, no more. So be it if Aeron spurned her wise counsel, favoring soft voices over hard truths. She would simply shift her considerable influence elsewhere.

There were always rivals and malcontents seeking advantage against an untested emperor. Mingus knew how to guide such assets from the shadows subtly. If Aeron did not have her ahead of the herd, she would lead from behind it then, wherever that position took her. For now, he left her little choice.

She had hoped to guide the young emperor through a peaceful transition, maintaining House Blackturtles' primacy. But thwarted at every turn, her patience neared its end. Power was meant to be exercised, not wasted placating misguided idealists. Soon, they would all learn that lesson when Mingus reasserted her will, one way or another.

***

Kammy leaned on the Nightmare's railing, watching Astorium's pristine spires recede into the distance with no small sense of relief. This latest raid on the pretentious imperial capital had proven more trouble than it was worth.

That damnable Kind fixated on capturing her above all else. The dogged persistence of his soldiers had nearly cost Kammy her hard-won freedom this time. She was glad to be rid of that nuisance once again.

"Had your fill of our glorious capital then?" Gen teased as he steered them skillfully back out to the open sea.

Kammy spat over the side scornfully. "Bloody overrated cesspool. We'll find easier pickings elsewhere."

"The new maggot Rakoth proved himself useful at least," Denny piped up from swabbing the deck.

Kammy nodded approvingly. That desperate waif had begged to join their crew back in Astorium's seamy taverns. Though wary, Kammy saw promise in the hard glint behind his battered exterior. Her instinct had proven right; he took to the pirate's life with zeal.

"Aye, he'll do well enough I'd wager," Kammy agreed. "Didn't whimper or flop about when things got rough. Game little fighter deep down."

She watched the boy in question scuttling up the rigging, seeking any task to prove his worth, it seemed. Kammy grinned crookedly.

"You want to stay aboard; you keep that spark bright!" she called over to Rakoth. "I've no tolerance for dead weight."

"No need to worry, Captain," the boy shouted back eagerly. "I'll earn my place."

Kammy nodded, satisfied. She'd been skeptical about taking on some cast-off imperial waif, but Rakoth had fiercely embraced the pirate's freedom. So long as that wildfire continued burning within him, she was happy to have him aboard.

Leaning over the side, Kammy spat once more toward distant Astorium for good measure. The open sea was calling them onward to new horizons and plunder. That cursed city can keep its gilded cages and preening nobles. Kammy lived only for the winds and waves.

***

Aeron sat tensely on his throne as the imperial council session commenced. He still felt uneasy asserting authority over these powerful elders who likely resented being dictated to by a teenage peasant emperor.

But the soul-bound Amara had helped him meticulously research proper protocols, and Gideon stood guard, ready to intercept any threats. Steadied by their support, Aeron cleared his throat, hoping he appeared confident.

"Esteemed council members, I have called this session to address growing unrest in the outlying territories," Aeron began, relieved his voice sounded steady.

"The people require greater provision and protection from raiders. I propose dispatching peacekeeping forces to stabilize the borders and supply aid."

He paused, trying to gauge reactions from the impassive council. "What say you all to this proposed course?"

For an uneasy moment, silence hung over the hall. Then Lord Cyron stood, expression sour.

"Your eagerness to spend imperial resources is admirable, my liege," he began with exaggerated courtesy. "But perhaps the council's more experienced perspective could suggest prudent alternatives to your...generous decree."

Aeron's ears burned, but he kept his tone formal. "I shall gladly welcome your wise insights, Lord Cyron. But unrest persists, and I must answer the people's pleas. The action of substance is required."

Hardened eyes stared back at Aeron's calm but unyielding words. He glimpsed Amara, giving him an encouraging nod from the gallery above.

Finally, old Lord Blanche stood. "Additional security at this time may prevent greater instability and violence." He met Aeron's gaze. "I stand with my Emperor's decree."

Murmurs swept the hall as the respected Blanche backed Aeron's edict. Cyron sat scowling while others conferred uneasily, forced to support their Emperor's uncompromising stance.

Relief washed over Aeron. Though reluctant, the council could not openly defy the imperial will once asserted. He had passed this first real test of command. Much work remained, but today proved that his conviction could achieve progress.

Glancing up gratefully at Amara and Gideon, Aeron left the hall with his head held high. Their steadfast faith had bolstered him through fire. Wisdom borne of compassion was persuading the realm slowly but surely. Heartened, Aeron looked ahead to the next diurnal.