The Imperial Princess across from me leaned forward, steepling her fingers.

“I’ll start, then, and Erik can add when he feels it’s necessary. I hope you will forgive me if I overexplain any aspect of the situation. I do not mean to condescend to you by doing so but based on what you have told me just now, I think I cannot assume anything when if comes to what you do or do not know. Furthermore, if I were to ask you to first explain what you do know, you would refuse, yes?”

I nodded. My only advantage was the vague threat that I might be able to catch them in a lie, since there was no way for them to predict what my visions would have shown me. If I shared what I knew, I would lose any assurance I had that they were being honest with me. I wanted to trust them, but I knew better. They did not need to know how scant my political knowledge really was. The library lacked any sort of periodicals or recent news, and my visions were mostly of incursions or flashes of my own future. All I had to protect myself here was this fragile bluff, and I had no intention of relinquishing it so soon.

“Then let’s start with the big picture. Power in the Empire is more or less concentrated within four overlapping arenas: the Imperial court, the aristocracy, the Mage’s Guild, and the Temple of Lumina. Currently, due to issues of succession, the Imperial court is in a state turmoil hidden beneath a calm surface.”

I nodded. I knew that much – six imperial children, one recently dead.

“The situation is ultimately my father’s fault. He has yet to announce a successor, and the ambiguity is fracturing the leadership of the empire. My eldest brother Adar is eager to take the throne and has the largest faction in the aristocracy under his thumb. He is also the one responsible for Caswallon’s death.”

I swallowed. Treasonous words, and a shocking accusation. I tried to hide my shock as much as I could and simply nodded again. Rhiannon looked pained now, and it suddenly struck me that the dead imperial child I had just thought of so callously was her little brother. I had no real sense of what it meant to be family, but I could see her sincere grief clearly.

“The Emperor has almost completely removed himself from the internal workings of the aristocracy, where Adar’s power is concentrated, and keeps to the court. He has not taken any major action for years, though, and my power is centered in the palace. I’ve worked on statecraft since I was a child, and I have many connections among the ministers.”

I hesitated. This was an obvious question, but I needed it to be clear.

“You want the throne?”

Princess Rhiannon started to smile indulgently, then paused.

“Actually, no.”

Captain Oesten looked at her, shocked.

“Steady, Erik. I simply mean that it is not that I want the throne, but rather that Adar cannot be allowed to take it.”

The captain relaxed, and his eyes looked almost sympathetic for a moment before he turned back to me, expressionless again.

“Now, that leaves two obvious arenas open for the taking, so to speak –“

“Wait,” I interrupted her, deciding that I was not going to pretend to follow any etiquette for the rest of this conversation. It did not seem like she cared, and I really had no true respect for the Imperial family after growing up behind the stage of power in the temple. I also did not have any energy left to care about such things. “Why can’t your brother take the throne?”

This was important. I felt cruel for asking this question right after she had told me he had murdered their younger brother, but it needed to be asked. Everything I had seen from my visions showed an Empire at risk from an external threat, with those on the margins suffering. I might be desperate to escape my circumstances, but allying with someone who cared as little as Priest Kielan did about the effects of the incursions was not an option for me. I was confident the captain cared – more confident than I ought to be, probably - but I needed to know this potential Empress cared too.

“Hmmm. I can’t quite tell if your questions are naïve or perspicacious.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. As far as negotiating went right now, it was probably fine for her to think I was a bit of a fool, but I still found her comment annoying for some reason. She glanced at me sheepishly.

“Right, sorry. Getting a bit fresh with people I like is a bad habit of mine.” She really did look apologetic. Strange. Captain Oesten rolled his eyes next to her.

I decided I had no idea what to do with that. Her rapid changes in demeanor and levels of formality were beginning to give me whiplash. Trying to keep my composure, I just kept staring at her until she continued.

After a long and awkward moment, she cleared her throat and went on. “Adar is not suited for power. He is shrewd but greedy and sees people around him as disposable.” Her eyes dimmed a bit. “Cas had no intention of seeking the throne, but he was killed as a warning to me and other nobles. Adar’s ruthlessness has escalated, and he is gathering more political power by the day.”

I steeled myself. I wanted to stop pushing, just apologize for bringing it up and give my condolences; I wanted to trust her. I wanted to believe two people before me had saved me from that hell with good intentions. But I was all too aware of my ignorance, and backing down now would only lead to more doubts in the future.

Keeping my face as blank as possible, I ignored her obvious grief and my own stinging conscience to ask the most important question.

“What is his stance on the incursions?”

Princess Rhiannon blinked. “Another odd question… I suppose you mean beyond the obvious one, ‘they are bad’? There are plenty of arguments over the best policy for mitigation and funding for defenses, but… is that what you mean?”

I leaned back and pulled the heavy robe closer around myself. Maybe I had caught a bit of a chill after all.

“My job is to predict incursions. The job of the throne is to prevent harm when they happen.”

Two gazes cut through me, one emerald, the other onyx. I kept my voice steady, feeling a familiar anger rising in me – anger borne of the frustration I felt when I saw people die in my visions

“Does Adar agree with this?”

There was a long silence.

“You really have a knack for making the complex simple. Perhaps I’ve grown too accustomed to politicking…” The Princess trailed off, tapping her index finger softly on the table. It was a normal thing to do while deep in thought, a common habit, but the tension of the moment and my growing fatigue overlaid her with the image of Kielan tapping his fingers in his office as I stood before him, waiting for orders and punishment. That soft sound, echoing, the same tap, tap, tap, tap -

Captain Oesten spoke and broke me out of my haze. Right. I was not in the Temple anymore.

“He does not.”

I let out a heavy breath. “Alright.”

The princess looked up and glanced between us.

“Really, you’d never guess just from looking at them,” she muttered under her breath, before shaking herself slightly.

“Indeed. Publicly, he speaks of combatting them. But ultimately, to him the incursions are a tool and an opportunity, just like anything else. The deaths of those unlucky enough to be in his path mean less than nothing to him. It gets lost amid the detailed discussions of where money and troops should go for defenses, but fundamentally, he intends to leverage the incursions to gain power.”

“And you?”

She smiled. “I agree with your stance.”

Well. Alright. Perhaps a better, smarter person would keep pushing, or at least withhold judgement, but I decided at that moment to accept the people sitting before me. Until their stated intentions were proven false, and as long as we both opposed Adar and those who manipulated the consequences of incursions, I would work with them.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Rhiannon.” I met her gaze, trying to make it clear that I meant this sincerely, despite how I had tested her before. Her eyes were wide as she looked at me. It seemed that I could also give people conversational whiplash.

“Ah. Yes.” She swallowed once, hard. “Thank you.”

I waited for a few moments before continuing. Honestly, I wanted to back off now and leave her to mourn her brother. I wanted to go back to my tent and sleep. But Rhiannon was leaving imminently and I still needed more information. The captain could tell me too, probably, but working with them meant I was now supporting the princess as a candidate for the throne. I needed to hear her analysis from her directly.

“Can I continue?”

 “Indeed, we should,” agreed Rhiannon, promptly appearing completely composed again.

“You said two arenas are left outside your and Adar’s control. You mean the Mage’s Guild and the Temple?”

“Yes. The Mage’s Guild is more of an economic powerhouse than anything else, and I’ve made some progress there. I know many of their leadership from my work in government regulation. That said, they are fair-weather friends, and unless I stoop to outright bribery and quid pro quo I cannot guarantee their general support. Issue by issue, I know were they stand, but that doesn’t mean they will help me oppose the aristocracy if Adar starts putting resources into buying their loyalty.”

That was all very interesting, but I would need more context going forward. I knew a fair bit about the laws regulating magic commerce, and I made a mental note to review this knowledge later in case it became relevant.

“That leaves the Temple of Lumina.”

I could not help it – I sighed wearily at that. So the Temple was not just my prison but also a decisive source of power in the fight for succession to the Emperor. Of course it was.

“Are you alright?” Captain Oesten asked, his voice stern. I was a bit startled to hear him speak again, given how quiet he had been so far.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just – which of you has the most power within the temple, as far as you know?”

Rhiannon chuckled wryly. “Now, that’s the question, isn’t it? And power in the temple is not just a matter of who can influence succession, as you said before. Predicting incursions, providing healing, even providing the public with faith in the will of the goddess herself – all this lies in the temple.”

I wanted to copy the captain and roll my eyes at the ‘will of the goddess’ bit, but I held back. I needed to hear this.

“And yet, if you ask most members of court or the aristocracy or even the guild, they won’t mention the temple when discussing who might influence succession.”

Unable to hold back, I frowned. I knew better than that. I might not know news outside the temple, but I saw things within it. Given the steady stream of bribes and laundered money into the pockets of the senior priests, any noble should think of the temple when considering politics. And the High Priest was very clearly connected directly to the Emperor. I had even seen Prince Adar visit her office alone a few times over the last few years. When exactly had that been?

“That surprises you?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting… I’ll continue first, then you can explain.”

She glanced over at Captain Oesten, but he was busy making me uncomfortable by frowning at me. I tried to ignore him.

“Well, the reason the Temple is not mentioned is because it is seen as divinely above mundane politics. We both know better, but this impression is popular because the temple has managed to cultivate a veil of mystical unimpeachability over the last thirty years or so.”

As she continued, I half expected her to pull out a chalk board like my teachers once had.

“Historically, this was not the case. The Temple and the Imperial court were theoretically bound to one another through the Council of Priests. Meetings were open to the court and nobility, and Ceremonies were public. However, in recent decades the Council has isolated itself. The Temple has become something untouchable, separate from other powers in the Empire. Many think this is because that which is holy should only be overseen by the temple, even prophecies regarding incursions. By that argument, any outsiders would corrupt the word of Lumina with their worldly intentions.”

After a pause, Rhiannon met my eyes, her expression intent.

“Now, if it’s true that only the temple has access to the information you provide with your prophecies, that’s one thing. Perhaps it’s even possible the temple’s leadership has enough integrity and piety to share information with only the safety of the people in mind.”

I held her gaze, waiting for her inevitable question.

“What does the Temple do with your prophecies, Saintess?”