Four years ago

  Heemlik wrung his hands nervously, trying to put his eyes anywhere other than the person sitting across from him in the comfortable carriage. Ordinarily he had no issue staring someone down; both of his fathers made it a necessary survival skill growing up. He needed it if he was going to inherit a territory like the Gaar one day. But the poor man he was sharing this carriage with didn't deserve the dreaded gaze the Eerind heir had cultivated.

  These really are some nice fingerless gloves, he thought. Yes. Very nice. They really bring out the orange tan of my yaglid skin. Mm. Very nice for firing a bow on horseback. Yes.

  Heemlik considered himself. His head of hair was clean and neat for once. He usually wore a helmet, but today was his wedding. He had a young, square-faced yaglid complexion with a healthy collection of scars, and a pair of gray eyes that matched his needle of a sword.

  His eyes strayed up a little toward his groom, but he masked the motion with a bump in the street.

  Hm, I ought to get Kaanel a pair of fingerless gloves too. I wonder how a narubati like him would look in those. I haven't seen him wear those before, probably because he doesn't shoot a bow.

  Heemlik turned to look out the window. He had never in his life been to a proper city like Claazent before; that was part of coming of age for an Eerind. There were no temples that could perform marriages in the Gaar, so when Heemlik found a spouse, he also got his first glimpse of Adalaant itself, not just its penal colony.

  He'd only been here for two days, however, and the rot was starting to show. The splendor, as it were, had worn off. The buildings he’d been told were big were indeed ... big. It was not nearly as amazing as he'd expected it to be, especially after spending his entire life up to this point a stone's throw from the Fade. Now that was a skyscraper.

  Heemlik really wished the place could hold his attention for longer. He needed something to take his mind off of what Kaanel revealed about himself a few minutes ago. Needed something to keep his eyes off the man's jacket pocket, now that he knew what was in there.

  As if on cue, the carriage entered a square and a genesis spire came into view from behind all the buildings. Ah, yes. The Genesis Spires of Adalaant. Where inferior peoples were conceived in a bed somewhere if they were lucky, Adalaantians were conceived at the height of human architecture, in full view of the suns. The black stone tower with orange and yellow marbling, soared into the sky as if holding up the heavens. It was all staircases inside, beautifully ornamented and decorated and built together into one tall spiral. Heemlik saw the tiny figures of women making their way up and down the steps. They were always in wife pairs, except for the ones wearing the distinctive pink tunics of splendomancer conceptionists.

  There were three ways magic could flow through a person: through the moons, or lunomancy, through writing using moon-shards, or scriptomancy, and one more. It came from Adalaant, and was called splendomancy.

  Unlike scriptomancy, it was not just another derivative of lunomancy but instead sourced its power from the suns. Also unlike its estranged sibling magics, splendomancy was the father of not just a religion, but over a quarter of the world's population. It could heal the sick, burn the wicked, and conceive children.

  It was a woman who discovered it: Lady Ireen of Meedapol. Ironically, she spread it to the Narubati and Yaglid tribes to liberate women. It just goes to show that you should never try to change humans by giving them more power over the world around them; they'll only become more human that way.

  Heemlik took it back; that was a skyscraper. There wasn't one like it in Gaar-Adalaant. People weren’t supposed to be born in a place meant for them to die. He'd probably been conceived on the spire he was looking at, now that he came to think of it. Was that on the east side of the city? He checked the sun’s position in the sky. It was the east side. That was Heemlik's genesis spire, alright.

  Suns, how did I not notice that thing in his jacket sooner?

  Focus. You just got married, everything is a little strange right now. Just focus on Korinti's Dialogues. Those always calm you down.

  Yeah, when I'm overseeing workers. This is different.

  Okay, try Deelediktus then.

  That's father's favorite. I need to find my own, like he did.

  Sigh ...

  "A-ahem."

  Heemlik turned to Kaanel, whose face matched that pitiful clearing of the throat. Kaanel had a strong jaw, prominent cheekbones, and a long, straight haircut, but somehow, he still managed to look like a frightened puppy. It was a new look for him. Until now, Heemlik had always seen him either wearing a helmet, or a quiet confidence.

  "What is it?"

  "Well … " Kaanel said, forcing himself to meet Heemlik's gaze. "I er, I assume this means you're all right with it?"

  "All right with wha – oh. What do you mean 'this'?"

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  Kaanel gestured weakly out the window. He looked more pathetic than Heemlik had ever seen in an Eerind honor guardsman. The honor guard were supposed to be the most elite from among the Ochre Company, the private division of the Adalaantian army the Eerinds led. The fiery ochre color of their metal armor contrasted with the cool, composed violet of their cloth. Kaanel embodied neither of those, even in his ceremonial wedding version.

  "I mean this," Kaanel repeated. "Taking me to the city. Adopting a child. Going forward with … you know, marrying me."

  Heemlik took several deep breaths, settling back in his seat. The carriage bumped along beneath them, but it didn't hold a candle to his thoughts right now.

  In Adalaant, men raised boys and women raised girls. Women, of course, birthed all of them, but had to give the boys away. And there were always men to take them; in the farmlands and rural areas, you could never have too many hands. Cities ended up with child populations skewed toward women, and vice versa. Heemlik saw that skew in the mix of men and women in the parting crowds, and it only got sharper the younger they got.

  The rules were slightly different for aristocrats and military officers, the line between which the Eerind family skirted neatly. For someone for whom inheritances included large swaths of the population, competitive bloodlines were unacceptable. Sibling infighting had cost Adalaant dearly in its past, and so an only child was the sole candidate for powerful offices. If a replacement heir was needed, they were sought out the moment the existing heir was lost. The scriptures compared the practice of “heir and a spare” to polygamy, “breeding cruelty to the competing heirs and jealousy among their number”. The system had its risks and its flaws, but to Adalaantians it was an obvious upgrade to the approach of the squabbling Ecliptican states to the north.

  "You … hm," Heemlik said. "Well, I am still very angry with you."

  "Of course," Kaanel nodded quickly. "I am sorry to have put you in this position. I should have refused your proposition."

  "You shouldn't have taken that moon-shard and played with it, and learned its ways," Heemlik responded sharply. "You shouldn't have stained your soul like that. You should have known better. ‘Foolish is the man who competes for punishments instead of prizes. Foolish is he who thirsts for poison instead of water.’"

  Heemlik regretted the biting recitation before he finished it. Korinti did not mince words.

  "I can still throw it away," Kaanel said. His face betrayed that he would do no such thing. Not that there would be any point. If he'd had it as long as he said, the damage was done. No amount of repentance or even bloodletting would get the sin out of him, even if the inquisition did it. He’d have to be personally pardoned by the king for absolution, and that was never happening.

  Heemlik breathed out again, slower this time.

  "Look, Kaanel," he said. "I was raised to exterminate people like you. We both were. Scriptomancers, witches, siculates, the worst corruptions Mekkendor has to offer. That's why we are Eerinds. We rule the Gaar and its ilk. It does not rule us. We cordon off its taint from the rest of Adalaant, and we keep the Fade at bay with sacrifice."

  "What about people like me?" Kaanel asked. Heemlik frowned.

  "What do you mean, 'people like you'? I just said – "

  "I am a scriptomancer," Kaanel said. His voice was a lot more firm now. "But I am also Kaanel."

  Heemlik scrunched up his face and put it in his hands. "I know … " he moaned. "That's what I'm having difficulty with at the moment. I know what a scriptomancer is. I've never seen one before, but I was taught what to do if I did."

  "But you also know me," Kaanel said. "That's why you asked me to marry you, isn't it?"

  Heemlik nodded. This was firmer territory. "Yes. Yes it is. I've known you since we were young. Since you were assigned to the Gaar. You were always the most loyal and devout honor guard since you were placed to my side. Out in the Gaar, where we are surrounded by the wicked, that means something."

  Kaanel allowed himself a smile before continuing.

  "So … "

  Evil spared is evil shared, Heemlik's mind helpfully conjured for him. That wasn't Dialogues or Deelediktus. That was Securities, chapter three, verse one.

  "Look," Heemlik sat up. "I need to be decisive."

  "You typically are."

  "Then I'll get back to it. Listen, Kaanel, I … well, whatever is right or wrong, whatever the Suns think when they shine down on us, I love you. I married you. Those two things I know. I also know that you are a sinner of the lowest variety, second only to the witch and the siculate and the Prisnidine."

  Kaanel nodded once. "And?"

  "And we shall stay married, but let's avoid adopting a child for now."

  Kaanel's resigned posture gave way to relief, then surprise. "What? Why?"

  "Because I need to sort this out – we need to sort this out before we raise someone else."

  "Your father will have questions."

  "Not a new experience."

  "But … " Kaanel tried hopefully. "We can adopt one in the future? We'll need an heir. The Eerinds, I mean."

  "Yes," Heemlik nodded. "We will. Assuming we find a way to cleanse you without revealing you. I do want a child, you know. I just … wanted to raise them in better circumstances than this."

  Kaanel lowered his head in shame. Heemlik flinched at himself and hurried to add:

  "But just so you know, Kaanel," he said, "There's no one I'd rather be in this situation with than you."

  Heemlik leaned forward and placed a hand on Kaanel’s knee. They met eyes. Heemlik’s didn’t pierce. Kaanel’s didn’t look away.

  “We have a dog, don’t we?” he asked with a crooked smile. Heemlik wasn’t good at lightheartedness, but for some reason Kaanel smiled back anyway. He put a hand on Heemlik’s.

  “We do,” he conceded. “A very young pup, too. Perhaps that shall hold me over for now.”

  Heemlik squeezed.

  “I love you, Kaanel,” he said. He wished he was better at putting emotions other than anger and expectation in his voice, but he did his best. “You are the voice of reason I have always needed. I cannot afford to lose you. Not now, not at this moment in my life. Not when our future territory grows ever more embroiled in controversy.”

  Kaanel placed a hand on Heemlik’s, and smiled warmly. “I cannot afford to lose you either. Your burdens come from the outside world, but mine come from my own vices. You seem impervious to your own demons. I need someone with that kind of strength at my side.”

  Heemlik almost laughed. Confident in his own steadfastness? Impervious to his own demons? Kaanel’s secret was quickly becoming the most frightening inner demon Heemlik ever faced.

  But if seeing the country he was protecting up close taught Heemlik anything, it was that there were far worse people he could lie for. If his own father taught Heemlik anything, it was that there was always someone more dangerous to disappoint.

  The carriage stopped at the base of the genesis spire. It was nearly time to reject the adoption. They shared a kiss, and stepped out onto the bright cobbled street, taking firm hold of each other’s backs and secrets.