“Everything you wanted, achieved in a single day. I daresay you should even thank the Vagrant for killing Gordian, for now you do not have to keep him under your thumb. You are the lone Pillar upon Thanet, Sinshei vin Lucavi. The island is yours, to prepare and mold as you see fit.”

Again the words of the messenger taunted her, turning her heart to ash.

“No,” she said. “It is not.”

The smile slowly faded from the handsome man’s face. She saw a hint of something in his blue eyes, a reaction she could not decipher.

“This is a moment to celebrate, yet you look ready for a dirge. Explain why.”

“Word from the docks beat you here. A priest with a spyglass spotted a trio of galleons newly come from Gadir.” She inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “The flag of the lead ship bears three red stars above the clasped hands of the God-Incarnate.”

Soma crossed his arms, and his only reaction was a mildly annoyed grunt.

“He’s early.”

Months early, in fact, and for reasons Sinshei wouldn’t know until she met with her brother. Even favorable winds did not explain as much. Was he impatient? Or did he not trust her to prepare Thanet for the ceremony?

“There is nothing we can do about that now,” she said as she forced herself up from the chair. “Come with me. The Heir-Incarnate must have his greeting.”

The fires had grown by the time the pair exited the castle. Smoke from a dozen different locations formed pillars in the air. Sinshei eyed them as they made their way to the main road descending the hill toward the docks. Putting the ceremony entirely on Magus’s shoulders had been a gamble. It was never in doubt that the Vagrant would take the bait. If the Imperator had crushed the resistance’s hero while simultaneously executing tens of their wealthy backers, Thanet would be unquestionably his, as would credit for its successful conquering.

Instead Magus was dead, the Vagrant alive, and the resistance limping along despite its casualties. Sinshei should have been ecstatic, but instead she walked with her head bowed and shoulders stooped, a perfect picture of contrition and shame to greet her eldest brother.

“How did things go so wrong?” she wondered as the pair descended the slowly sloping road down to the docks.

“We are not owed easy paths to walk,” Soma said. “That which was within our grasp, we manipulated to our best circumstances. It was a waste of ten good Seeds, Gordian’s death, but I always found him a poor ally regardless. And the Vagrant repaid that annoyance by utterly humiliating Magus and his hanging ceremony.”

“If only both had happened much sooner. Thanet should have been cowed and ready for my brother’s arrival. Instead he will be greeted by chaos. I shall receive all the blame, and none of the rewards.”

Soma smirked at her.