The moment Lyn saw Ilithyia, a lump had risen in his throat, but now it had grown so massive it was hard to breathe. A wave of sorrow engulfed him, and for a moment, he felt like he was drowning.

“I will not submit to bloodthirsty tyrant.” That’s how Lyn imagined his refusal sounding in his head.

Or perhaps:

“My power will not serve to kill.” (Although, what else could the pure force of disembodiment serve?)

But still, in his mind, he saw himself throwing these words in the Red Emperor’s face.

The reality was far different. After the death of Silverback, Lyn’s courage had dwindled.

Instead, his knees trembled, his stomach knotted, and he stammered:

“Y-you see, I’m not sure I can… Can an Archon resign? You know, become… a private citizen?”

And:

“I just don’t know how to do it! You could torture me, and I still wouldn’t know!”

(That was a lie: he knew. The knowledge had always been there, as if etched into his being.)

And something entirely incoherent, between snot and sobs, when his head was shoved into a bucket of water:

“I—I… can’t… ugh… ahhh…”

If the Red Emperor had resorted to genuine torture, Lyn’s resolve might have crumbled in an instant. But it never came to that. Beatings, yes, but nothing crippling. They didn’t even break a single bone.

Before each beating, they always pulled a coarse burlap sack over his head — perhaps the henchmen feared touching someone marked with the Archon of This World’s insignia on his forehead. Once, as Lyn lay curled on the floor, coughing, choking, and trying not to vomit, the absurdity of it all struck him as hilariously funny.

“A sack… Genius, truly genius… Why not just find a couple of idiots who’ve never even heard of the Archon, let alone count their fingers? A sack, for fuck’s sake…”

Another slap sent his head bouncing against the floor, but his silent sobbing still alternated with half-strangled laughter.

Ilithyia looked at Lyn with warmth and sympathy. Her lively, intelligent, kind eyes hadn’t seen the darkness he’d endured — and they never should.

Lyn forced himself to compose, keeping his lips tightly shut until he could speak with some semblance of control:

“Things are fine now… Well, they’ve been better since the Red Emperor’s death.” His eyes still stung with treacherous tears, and he stared at the floor, avoiding Ilithyia’s gaze. “I didn’t know what I could or couldn’t write. I worried about you. I didn’t even know if I should come today…”

“Oh, Lyn, what could possibly happen to me?” Ilithyia said with carefree surprise. “Who cares about an aging woman leading a quiet life? My establishments are modest; I’ve stepped on no toes. The income… well, it’s hardly worth mentioning...”

“...Madam Ilithyia’s trade is a perilous one — managing brothels. The Church frowns on such endeavors. Yet much is permitted to those loyal to me... though it’s still a dangerous business. Where tax collectors and moral watchdogs fail, rivals and the envious might succeed. I trust her security is strong?”     

“So you’re saying that if I refuse to do as you order, you’ll kill Ilithyia?”

“We are not barbarians, to kill the innocent. However, should the courts uncover any sin in madam Ilithyia’s dealings… well, that’s another matter. Certain malicious tongues claim she prays to forbidden gods. But surely, that’s a vile slander...”

"No... No one has threatened me or tried to sabotage our business," Ilithyia said, wrapping her arms around Lyn’s neck and pulling him into an embrace. "My poor boy, you always imagine the worst. But I can understand... I can imagine what you’ve been through."

No, she couldn’t even begin to imagine, Lyn realized suddenly, and the weight of that realization stood between him and Ilithyia like an invisible wall. No, the wall had always been there — he just hadn’t wanted to see it.

“There’s no point in these spy games, Lyn,” Ilithyia continued. “You should come visit. No, not visit—come home. It’s still your home, my dear! Really, no one will drop dead just because the Archon wants to see his family. You’ve grown so thin; it’s frightening to look at you. And those shadows under your eyes! They do nothing for you.”

No one will drop dead? Maybe not, as long as they still thought of him as a useless drunk. But even that wasn’t a given.

For so long, Lyn had wanted to tell Ilithyia everything. Now, the unsaid words burned inside him, but he knew — they had to remain unsaid. She probably already knew about Silverback, and there was no need for her to hear the rest. No need to make her worry. It was all in the past, anyway…

“What’s new with you, mother?” Lyn finally managed to croak, his voice sounding rusty and strange to his own ears.

“Oh, mostly the same,” Ilithyia mused. “I had to close the lupanarium on the hill — too expensive to keep running. But the one by the harbor is thriving… I kicked out Themistocles — he was stealing money… Everyone else you’d remember is still with us — Titus, One-Eyed, Anna, Aristophanes, String, Androcles and Alexander… A few new faces have joined; I’ll introduce them if you get the chance to visit — they’re good people. Oh! And recently a young man bought out Squirrel and married her.”

“The scruffy one?”

“She’s not scruffy anymore. Walks around like a proper lady. Peter bought his freedom too. And I released Xenia myself — she’s already married and has a daughter.”

“Xenia? But she’s… she’s only…”

“She’s your age, Lyn. Fully grown now. Oh, and Tail passed away — he was sick for a long time. I’ve taken in two new dogs... But enough about us. Tell me about you. Do you have more freedom now?”

“More of an appearance of freedom,” Lyn said with a crooked smile, repeating a phrase he’d overheard from one of the Council members. “But maybe, in time, there’ll be more real freedom. The new Empress seems… different from the Red Emperor. I’m not sure yet. She’s planning…”

He faltered, uncertain if he should tell Ilithyia about the upcoming negotiations. But as it turned out, it wasn’t much of a secret:

“So it’s true she wants to make peace with Arya?”

“People already know?” Lyn asked, startled. “I think it’s a good thing,” he said cautiously. “And a brave step. It won’t make her popular with the people.”

“The people…” Ilithyia scoffed. “The people are fools, ready to believe any pretty lie. Tell them white is black, and they’ll swear by it. All they want is booze and spectacle. And after the Red Emperor’s death, it’s like they’re all in a fever. Which is understandable — the old era is gone, and no one knows what the new one will bring. Wild rumors are spreading. Some say Valeria poisoned her father; others think she’s dead too, and the Council is ruling in her name. Some expect a great war with Gauts or the Caliphate…”

She glanced at Lyn, who shrugged. He hadn’t heard anything like that in the palace. Carefully, he said:

“I doubt the Council wants that… From what I gather, even the war with Arya has been incredibly expensive.”

Ilithyia’s smile turned sharp and wolfish.

“Of course. War is a costly business. Even the most righteous one against the most ungodly heathens... Ah, people. All they care about is money...” She shook her head. “In short, the Great City is in chaos right now. You could put any idea into people’s heads, and they’d believe it. Some are even preparing for the end of the world based on some ancient calendar. There are scandals everywhere, strange happenings… All the city’s madmen, who once kept quiet, are wide awake now.”

“Tell me about it,” Lyn muttered. “I’ve seen the graffiti on the walls… where they kill in the name of Gaia.”

“Oh, yes, them too… And what do you think of that?” Ilithyia asked, her eyes gleaming with interest.

Lyn shrugged.

“It’s absurd. They’re calling on the shifters to kill ordinary people indiscriminately — what, wipe out the entire country? And it’s all written so theatrically. ‘They break our wings and blind us.’ Isn’t that too much? Anyone who’s been to an execution knows how terrifying it is — and just about everyone has been to at least one shifter execution to gawk. There’s no need to wrap it in poetry for teenagers.”

“Hmm. You may be right,” Ilithyia said thoughtfully. “But tell me more. I see you’re excited about the trip. What will you be doing? Who else is going?”

“I’ve only heard about some Sophia and Cassiodorus. And they’re sending me because I’m the most useless person in the country.”

“Oh, how wrong you are,” Ilithyia said with a sly smile. “Isn’t it obvious? They want to make you a sword in its sheath. A silent argument to sway the shifters toward favorable terms. A reminder of the former Archon and the Red Emperor’s glory days at their peak… A kind word and a sword can achieve more than a kind word alone.”

Lyn hadn’t considered his role in the negotiations from that angle. It sounded far less noble than being part of a worthy cause.

But, at least, being a sword in its sheath was better than being drawn… probably.

“My dear,” Ilithyia said with genuine sympathy, “thinking back to our last meeting here in these thermae… Have you finally found someone to share your bed? You’ve always been so cold, but I’m sure even a sweet maid could warm you up a little…”

Lyn had kept himself together throughout this conversation, trying to be the dutiful son Ilithyia wanted him to be. But now, one of those unpleasant, slightly hysterical laughs he thought she’d never hear escaped him. Bed partners? Seriously? Of course, mother, I’ve been having fantastic sex in the Red Emperor’s dungeons, morning to night… Sure, Lyn had every chance to find “company” there, but only in ways that would’ve left him fit for nothing but pig feed in a trash bag. He’d always been afraid of that. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that.

With an almost superhuman effort, he reshaped the thought into something calmer, though no less sarcastic:

“Sure. Met my soulmate. We’ve got a houseful of kids already.”

In truth, now that he had more freedom, Lyn could have chosen some not-too-ugly, not-too-dirty servant — a girl or a boy, it didn’t matter — to pull into a corner or onto his lap when the mood struck. But the idea seemed utterly alien now. Not even repulsive, as the sight of Ilithyia’s downtrodden whores had sometimes been. Now it was just something from a world he no longer belonged to. 

Ilithyia didn’t appreciate his humor. Her brows furrowed briefly, but her face quickly softened into a gentle, understanding smile.

“Well… I’m sure it’s only a matter of time… But I’m so glad to see you mending relations with the Council, Lyn! You were born under a cruel star,” she said. “The stars cannot leave their paths, and so we all follow the routes set for us. But it would be wonderful if you could fulfill your destiny without breaking your soul.”