Isana just stared at the man. Aquitaine, to her, had always been simply the male counterpart of Invidia, a partner in her ruthless political enterprises. She would never have guessed that he might be the sort to understand that not every person was plotting against all the others, capable of murder and treachery when it provided enough gain. Though perhaps it should have come as no surprise. Invidia had been capable of seeing fidelity in others, an essential core of... of honor, Isana supposed, that made their word worth more than a few seconds of warm breath.

She had certainly exploited that trait in Isana.

“Tell me,” Isana said. “What possible reason I could have to pursue this plan instead of supporting the lawful succession of the Realm?”

“Three reasons,” he responded without pause. “First, because doing so would obviate the need for the current struggle in the Senate, pulling the teeth of the various Senators involved. Valerius has driven this conflict forward predicated on the notion that this is a time of war and we need an immediate, settled chain of command. Our union would steal Valerius’s thunder, prevent the Senate from gathering into separate factions over the issue, and avoid setting a dangerous precedent of the Senate dictating terms to the office of the First Lord.”

“Second?”

“Because it would mean that I would have neither reason to harm your son nor need to defend myself against him. Octavian is capable, I freely acknowledge. But by dint of experience and advantage of position, I am more so. Any struggle for power between us would be disastrous for him, personally, and for the Realm as a whole.”

It would have been easier to sneer at Aquitaine’s remark, Isana thought, if she hadn’t just pressed that same point upon Veradis so emphatically.

“And third,” Aquitaine said, “because it’s going to save lives. The vord are coming. Too much time has already been wasted precisely because there are lingering doubts about who truly wears the crown. Each day, our enemy grows stronger. Whether Octavian wears the crown or I, these days of doubt are paralyzing us. I am here. He is not.”

Isana quirked an eyebrow at him. “I wonder, Lord Aquitaine, if you happened to be standing near a pool last night. Or any other body of water.”

Aquitaine lifted a hand palm up in a gesture of concession. “Granted, he is most likely alive and back from Canea. Granted, his display of power was impressive...” Aquitaine shook his head, his expression reminding Isana of a man preparing to eat something he found distasteful. “Not impressive. Inspiring. His words to our own people meant more than a simple declaration of his presence. He brought them courage. He brought them hope.”

“The way a First Lord should,” Isana said.