Praetorian Rising, стр. 100
"I know what it is they did!"
The infirmary floors were shiny white and brilliantly clean beneath the blooming pink outlines of her toes. She was naked except for a pair of thin cotton shorts and a slim white cotton tank top. The black shock of her Praetorian response spilled like a tidal wave into the fiery red roots of her hairline and down her neck as she stood before him, the rage of her past thrumming through her like an unstoppable fire burning everything in its wake.
Short quick breaths puffed out from between her lips as she glared at him through black, emotionless eyes. The depth of her silence dared him to speak, but he was unable to formulate a single word. He couldn't breathe. A choked cry clawed its way up his throat, but nothing escaped his lips when he opened his mouth wide to scream.
It was then that she smiled—a smooth and unemotional action without an ounce of humanity displayed. It was the most terrifying expression Theo had ever seen painted across Camille's features. "I killed them," she purred, taking slow, menacing steps toward him. "I killed every single one of those treacherous Asperians. The men. The women. The children. They all deserved to die."
Theo shook his head slowly, uncertain of what to do. It'd been a very long time since he'd feared for his life, but as he watched Camille slink toward him, her eyes pure black and swimming in hatred, he felt a familiar panic surge like bile in the back of his throat. She was lost to him, crushed beneath the tangled lies of her past and completely unreachable as the fury swallowed her whole.
***
Vesyon stood on the balcony just off the main living quarters of his old room. It had felt beyond good to walk into the familiar space, run his fingers over the old worn books and disarray of papers, grasp the simple items he had once held so dear. With the wondrous delight of coming home, he was struck silent with the sudden sharp taste of loneliness. Standing alone in the home he'd grown up in with Jesabelle—it was welcoming and horribly bittersweet.
He walked straight out to the balcony, needing to get some fresh air, and lost track of time as he pulled out his worn wooden pipe and packed his favorite tobacco down the chamber in rhythmic repetition. Smoke billowed from between his lips, bringing a slow and needed peace to his mind.
"May I join you?" Langhorn asked from the edge of the balcony behind him. Vesyon hadn't heard him enter. The old man had moved silently like a cloud on a persistent breeze. It didn't matter, he was finally home, and for once Vesyon felt safe in the comfort of his surroundings. He nodded at the old man and Langhorn floated toward him, his feet moving beneath the billowing material of his cloak.
Reaching into one sleeve, Langhorn pulled out a narrow, ivory pipe the length of Vesyon's forearm, carved with the most delicate details around the base of the pipe end. Langhorn rarely smoked with Vesyon, but when he did, he staunchly smoked his private reserve of cannabis. Vesyon had smoked the old man's leaf once or twice in his life, but it made his mind fuzzy in a way that made him not understand the appeal. It eases the ache in my bones, Langhorn would say, but Vesyon believed it was more about the gentle ease of his mind that made Langhorn delight in the delicate leaf from time to time.
"There's one more thing," Langhorn said, reaching into his other sleeve and pulling out a thin parchment envelope. The broken red seal across the front the mark of the High Court.
"What's this?" Vesyon asked with an edge to his voice. He eyed the envelope and array of parchment with a strong sense of foreboding.
"Open it," Langhorn replied dryly before he inhaled heavily on his pipe, allowing the smoke to sit comfortably in his chest before blowing out gentle blueish rings.
Vesyon reached inside the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment folded into thirds. Two tiny slips of paper fluttered into his hand as he unfolded the letter, and his eyes flicked up to Langhorn's in trepidation. He quickly read through the perfectly looped words across the top and felt the blood drain from his face. "How?" Vesyon asked, his tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth as the sweet taste of tobacco turned to ash on his taste buds.
"He's made his next move."
Vesyon reread the words delicately written in beautiful green ink, but the heading was the only content he seemed able to process. His heart slammed against his chest as a rolling wave of Praecollection poured into him. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to see what his mind was forcing him to endure, but the memories were unstoppable. His vision blurred from the intense pain drumming behind his eyes, and he tossed the letter onto the balcony railing, wishing a gust of wind would whip it away from him. "This can't be possible. He exiled Praetorians, all of us!"
Langhorn nodded, staring out at the swirling loops of smoke drifting lazily through the early evening air, purposely giving Vesyon time to collect himself. "You may not believe what's written on that page, but the rest of Aspera will. And when they receive their letters, there will be nothing to stop him from yanking every Asperian he wants into Alpha Quarter."
"He needs Ephidra Lily to continue what he's started—you said that yourself. He didn't find any."
"I told you the war would begin when he began to search for more, he's run through the supply he stole from me. We're too late, Vesyon. The war for Aspera has truly begun, and there's nothing we can do to stop its