The Imperial Pace existed in constant motion—servants carrying messages, nobles seeking audiences, officials overseeing the vast machinery of government. But today, the corridors fell unnaturally silent as guards blocked passageways and physicians rushed through doors that normally remained closed to all but the most trusted attendants.

  Lucian stood outside the Imperial bedchamber, hands csped behind his back, watching as the third team of court physicians emerged with grim expressions. The head physician, Galen, an elderly man with hands permanently stained from medicinal herbs, shook his head slightly.

  "His condition deteriorates, Lord Veritum," he said quietly. "The fever rises despite our cooling compresses, and his breathing grows more bored by the hour."

  "Have you determined the cause?" Lucian asked, keeping his voice level despite the growing knot of concern in his stomach. Emperor Tiberius had fallen ill three days ago, what had seemed a minor indisposition rapidly developing into something far more serious.

  "We have not. It resembles no common ailment." Galen hesitated. "Some whisper of poison, though we find no evidence."

  The word hung in the air between them. Poison. Political assassination disguised as natural illness was not unknown in imperial history. The timing couldn't be worse—the educational reforms were barely taking root, with the first school in the capital still recovering from the arson attack and the provincial centers only beginning to accept students.

  "Who has been informed of the severity?" Lucian asked.

  "Only the Queen Consort, the Imperial Council, and yourself, my lord."

  Lucian nodded. "Keep it that way. Continue your treatments. I wish to see him."

  The guard stationed at the Emperor's door stepped aside with a bow. Inside, the chamber was dim, heavy curtains drawn against the sunlight. The room smelled of medicinal herbs and sickness. Queen Consort Antonia sat beside the bed, her elegant features drawn with worry as she dabbed her husband's forehead with a damp cloth.

  Emperor Tiberius, normally commanding even in repose, appeared shrunken against the pillows. His skin had taken on a grayish pallor, and his breathing came in shallow, irregur gasps. When he saw Lucian, he attempted to sit up, but the effort proved too much.

  "My friend," the Emperor whispered, his voice a fraction of its usual resonant tone. "The physicians...speak falsely cheerful words...but I know this is no...ordinary illness."

  Queen Antonia squeezed her husband's hand. "Save your strength, my love."

  Lucian approached the bedside, studying the Emperor closely. After nearly six years in the Human Empire, he had witnessed various illnesses, but nothing that progressed with such arming speed.

  "Has Lord Chamberin Octavius been notified?" Lucian asked the Queen.

  "Yes," she replied. "The Council meets as we speak to discuss...contingencies." Her voice caught on the st word, unable to directly acknowledge what they all feared.

  "I require a moment alone with Lord Veritum," the Emperor said, each word clearly costing him effort.

  The Queen hesitated, then nodded, pcing a gentle kiss on her husband's forehead before departing. The door closed softly behind her.

  "The reforms," Tiberius gasped as soon as they were alone. "They will...dismantle everything...if I die now."

  Lucian moved closer. "You will not die, Your Majesty."

  "Do not...waste breath on false comfort," the Emperor said with unexpected sharpness. "Listen carefully. The Formu Orthodoxy awaits...only my death...to recim control. The nobles who support them...already gather. Even now...Archmage Septimus prepares documents...to decre the schools unsafe...experiments to be ended."

  Lucian's mind raced. The Emperor's words aligned with reports he'd received from Corvinus, the imperial spymaster. Political vultures were indeed circling, with traditionalists seeing opportunity in the sovereign's sudden weakness.

  "Trust Duke Veridian," Tiberius continued, his breathing growing more bored. "He will...stand with you. And the girl...Livia. Keep her safe. Her talent...must not be lost."

  "I will protect her," Lucian promised. "But we should focus on your recovery, not succession pnning."

  The Emperor's hand shot out with surprising strength, grasping Lucian's wrist. "Find the cause. I know that mind of yours...sees patterns others miss."

  Lucian nodded, already considering possibilities. Though his title was Imperial Calcutor, his role had expanded far beyond mathematics. The Emperor's trust had granted him access to areas normally closed to foreigners, including certain aspects of formu medicine.

  "I will consult with Silvius," Lucian said. "He has knowledge of rare ailments."

  The Emperor's grip rexed slightly. "Your friend...of mysterious origins. Yes. Bring him. The physicians...traditional approaches fail."

  Lucian found Silvius in the Academy library, consulting ancient medical texts with Magistra Illumina. Theorema y curled on the table beside an open manuscript, occasionally batting at the pages as if pointing to particur sections.

  "I came as soon as I received your message," Silvius said, rising from his seat. His silver eyes studied Lucian's face with concern. "How severe is it?"

  "Worse than they're admitting publicly," Lucian replied. "The Emperor has requested your presence."

  Magistra Illumina's eyebrows rose in surprise. "The Imperial Physicians allow an outsider to attend His Majesty?"

  "They have little choice. Their conventional treatments show no effect," Lucian expined. "Silvius, what have you found?"

  Silvius gestured to the scattered manuscripts. "Several possibilities, none conclusive. The symptoms you described could match a dozen different conditions."

  "I've granted access to our restricted medical archives," Magistra Illumina added. "Some of these texts haven't been consulted in generations."

  Theorema meowed insistently, pawing at a particur page. The calcution cat's unusual intelligence had proven valuable on multiple occasions, and Lucian had learned not to dismiss her contributions.

  "What has she found?" Lucian asked, leaning forward.

  Silvius examined the page. "Interesting. It describes a simir condition that affected Emperor Aurelius three centuries ago. The symptoms match: rapid fever, respiratory distress, and a distinctive grayish pallor."

  "What was the cause?" Lucian pressed.

  "According to this account, exposure to a rare mineral found only in the northern mountains. It was contained in a diplomatic gift—an ornamental box that released microscopic particles when opened."

  Lucian frowned. "The Emperor hasn't received any such gifts recently."

  "The underlying principle may still be relevant," Silvius said. "A substance that appears harmless but releases toxins slowly. Has anything new been introduced to the Emperor's chambers within the past week?"

  Lucian thought carefully. "Nothing obvious. But I can investigate further."

  "We should examine his chambers," Silvius suggested. "And bring Theorema. Her senses might detect something we overlook."

  Magistra Illumina gathered several volumes. "Take these. They contain formu treatments that might help stabilize his condition while you search for the cause."

  As they prepared to leave, Duke Marcus Veridian entered the library, his face grave. "Lord Veritum, a moment."

  Lucian nodded to Silvius. "Gather what you need. I'll join you shortly."

  When Silvius had moved out of earshot with Theorema, the Duke spoke quietly. "The Imperial Council is in disarray. Lord Cassius has already suggested appointing a regency council controlled by the old noble families."

  "Unsurprising," Lucian replied.

  "What is surprising," Veridian continued, "is how prepared they were. The documents were drafted with remarkable speed, as if they anticipated this illness."

  Lucian's suspicions deepened. "Have you spoken with Corvinus?"

  "The Spymaster is investigating, but carefully. If this is an orchestrated attack, the conspirators must include members of the inner court." The Duke gnced toward Silvius, who was selecting additional manuscripts. "You trust him completely?"

  "With my life," Lucian said without hesitation.

  Veridian nodded. "Good. Because I've known him longer than you might realize, and in my experience, his loyalties, once given, are unbreakable." Before Lucian could question this curious statement, the Duke continued, "Be cautious. Court Physician Marcellus was overheard saying the Emperor's condition resembles no natural disease he's encountered in thirty years of practice."

  The Emperor's private chambers had been cleared of all but two personal guards when Lucian arrived with Silvius and Theorema. Queen Antonia met them in the antechamber, her composure remarkable despite her obvious distress.

  "The physicians speak of experimental treatments," she said. "They debate endlessly while my husband weakens."

  "We have alternative approaches to consider, Your Majesty," Lucian assured her. "But first, we must determine the source of the illness."

  "You suspect deliberate action?" she asked shrewdly.

  "We consider all possibilities," Silvius answered diplomatically.

  The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Silvius. "You are not a court physician. Nor a formu master of the Academy."

  "Silvius has extensive knowledge of rare conditions," Lucian expined. "The Emperor specifically requested his assistance."

  She seemed about to question further but instead gestured toward the inner chamber. "Do what you must. Save him if you can."

  As they entered the Emperor's bedchamber, Theorema leaped from Lucian's arms and began methodically exploring the room, her nose twitching as she investigated various objects. The Emperor himself had fallen into a fitful sleep, his breathing more bored than before.

  Chief Healer Marcellus looked up from where he was preparing a poultice. "Lord Veritum," he acknowledged with a stiff nod. His gaze turned suspicious when it fell on Silvius. "The Imperial chambers are not open to unauthorized persons."

  "By the Emperor's direct request," Lucian countered, handing him the official seal that authorized their presence.

  The healer examined it reluctantly. "As you wish. Our test treatments show minimal effect. The fever rises and falls but trends ever higher."

  Silvius approached the bed, his expression grave as he observed the Emperor's condition. "May I?" he asked, gesturing toward the sleeping monarch.

  Marcellus frowned but stepped aside. Silvius pced his hand gently on the Emperor's forehead, then closed his eyes in concentration. To anyone else, it might have appeared a simple assessment of temperature, but Lucian recognized the subtle way Silvius's expression changed when he employed his more unusual abilities.

  "The illness affects not just the body but the essence," Silvius murmured. "Something disrupts the natural flow of life energy."

  Marcellus scoffed quietly but said nothing.

  Meanwhile, Theorema had become increasingly agitated, pawing at a particur section of wall near the Emperor's bed. Lucian moved to investigate, discovering a nearly invisible seam in the wood paneling.

  "A hidden compartment?" he wondered aloud.

  "Impossible," Marcellus said. "These chambers have remained unchanged for generations."

  "Nonetheless," Lucian replied, pressing carefully along the seam. The panel yielded, revealing a small recess behind it. Within y what appeared to be a simple incense burner of unfamiliar design.

  "This doesn't belong to the imperial collection," Lucian stated with certainty, having cataloged many of the pace treasures during his years of service. He carefully lifted the object using a cloth rather than touching it directly.

  Silvius moved to examine it, leaning close without handling it. "The material is unusual. And there are formu inscriptions along the base, very finely etched."

  Theorema hissed at the object, backing away with her fur bristling.

  "When did this appear?" Lucian asked Marcellus.

  The healer looked genuinely confused. "I've never seen it before."

  Lucian carried the object to a table and examined it under the light. The inscriptions were indeed formu-based, but contained subtle errors—the kind Theorema had reacted to before. Not mistakes, but deliberate modifications that would twist the formu's purpose.

  "It's designed to release something harmful," Lucian said. "Gradually, so the effects would appear natural."

  Silvius nodded. "Simir to the case in the manuscript. But more sophisticated—the formu creates the toxin rather than simply releasing an existing substance."

  "Can you neutralize it?" Lucian asked.

  "Yes, but first, we must counteract what has already affected the Emperor." Silvius turned to Marcellus. "I need specific ingredients: crystallized honey from the southern provinces, white sage, mineral salts from the eastern kes, and essence of moonflower."

  The healer looked skeptical. "Those are not standard medicinal components."

  "They are needed to create a formu antidote," Silvius insisted. "Every moment we dey allows the toxin to spread further."

  Lucian intervened. "Fetch the ingredients immediately, Chief Healer. Imperial authority."

  While Marcellus reluctantly departed to gather the requested items, Silvius moved closer to Lucian and spoke quietly. "The full treatment will require more than standard methods."

  "You mean magical intervention beyond formus," Lucian transted.

  "Yes. And it would be best if Marcellus doesn't witness it directly. His formu orthodoxy would not accept what must be done."

  Lucian nodded. "I'll arrange it."

  Night had fallen by the time they had prepared the treatment. Lucian had orchestrated a complicated rotation of healers that ensured Silvius would have a period alone with the Emperor under the pretext of allowing a special formu poultice to take effect without disturbance.

  The Queen had agreed to the arrangement after Lucian expined that certain formu treatments required precise conditions, including privacy. She remained in the antechamber with Marcellus, while Lucian stood guard at the inner door.

  Inside, Silvius worked with focused intensity. He had prepared a solution using the requested ingredients, adding certain elements from his own travel pouches that he didn't name. The mixture emitted a subtle glow as he stirred it counter-clockwise seven times, then clockwise seven times.

  "This will neutralize the toxin, but the damage already done must be repaired," Silvius expined, helping the semi-conscious Emperor to drink the solution. Then he pced his hands on either side of the Emperor's head and closed his eyes in concentration.

  What happened next would have confirmed the most extreme suspicions about Silvius's true nature. A golden light emanated from his palms, not the blue-white of standard formu energy but something warmer, more primal. The light flowed into the Emperor, suffusing his gray skin with healthy color. Tiberius gasped once, his back arching slightly, before settling into a deeper, more regur breathing pattern.

  Throughout the procedure, Silvius murmured in a nguage that Lucian didn't recognize—neither the common tongue nor any schorly dialect of the Human Empire. It contained sounds that seemed barely possible for a human throat to produce, with resonances that made the air itself vibrate sympathetically.

  Watching from his position by the door, Lucian was struck anew by the mystery of his companion. In their centuries together, moments like these—when Silvius revealed abilities that transcended normal understanding—had occurred just frequently enough to maintain Lucian's curiosity but never enough to provide complete answers.

  After nearly an hour, the golden light faded. Silvius stepped back, visibly drained, and steadied himself against the bedpost.

  "Is it done?" Lucian asked quietly.

  "The immediate danger has passed," Silvius confirmed. "He'll need conventional care to recover his strength, but the toxin has been neutralized."

  Almost as if to confirm his words, Emperor Tiberius opened his eyes. His gaze, previously clouded with fever, now showed crity. "Silvius," he said, his voice weak but steady. "What you did... I felt it. Like fire... but healing, not burning."

  "Rest now, Your Majesty," Silvius replied. "Your body needs time to recover."

  The Emperor's eyes moved to Lucian. "You found... the cause?"

  Lucian approached the bed, showing him the incense burner. "This was hidden in your chambers. A formu-enhanced toxin delivery system."

  Tiberius's expression hardened. "Who?"

  "We're investigating. The design is sophisticated—only a master of formu craft could create it."

  The Emperor closed his eyes momentarily. "The Orthodoxy grows desperate."

  "Perhaps," Lucian said carefully. "But we shouldn't assume without evidence."

  "Always... the voice of reason," Tiberius said with a weak smile. "Call the Queen. She worries."

  Lucian opened the door. The Queen Consort entered immediately, rushing to her husband's side with visible relief. Marcellus followed, his expression shifting from skepticism to astonishment as he examined the Emperor.

  "The fever has broken," he confirmed, pressing a hand to the imperial forehead. "The breathing normalizes. This is... remarkable improvement."

  "The formu treatment was successful," Lucian stated simply, catching Silvius's eye. They had agreed to present the intervention in terms the court would understand and accept.

  "I require full documentation of the procedure," Marcellus insisted, professional pride clearly wounded.

  "Of course," Silvius replied smoothly. "Though some components were sourced from distant regions and may be difficult to replicate."

  The Queen had eyes only for her husband. "You return to me," she whispered, csping his hand.

  "Never doubted it," Tiberius replied with a weak attempt at his usual commanding tone. He turned toward Lucian and Silvius. "My gratitude... isn't sufficient. The Empire remains in your debt."

  Lucian bowed. "Your recovery is reward enough, Your Majesty."

  As they prepared to leave the Emperor to rest, Tiberius called Lucian back for a final word. "When I am stronger... we will discuss those responsible. This attack... was not just against me... but against the future we build."

  Later that night, in Lucian's private chambers in the Academy quarter, he and Silvius reviewed what they had learned. The poisoning device had been carefully examined, revealing sophisticated formu work deliberately modified to create harmful effects.

  "The craftsmanship is elite level," Lucian observed. "Few have such skill."

  "And fewer still would have access to the imperial bedchamber," Silvius added, absently stroking Theorema, who had curled contentedly in his p. The calcution cat had pyed no small role in discovering the hidden compartment and identifying the dangerous object.

  "Duke Veridian has already begun discreetly investigating the pace staff," Lucian said. "But I suspect we won't find the actual hand that pced it—only paid intermediaries."

  Silvius nodded thoughtfully. "The timing suggests coordination with political maneuvering. As the Emperor noted, it's not merely an assassination attempt but an effort to derail specific policies."

  The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows around the room. Lucian watched as Silvius continued to pet Theorema, the healing session clearly having drained some of his energy. Lucian had seen Silvius use those same abilities when he himself had been wounded during the assassination attempt—the golden light, the ancient nguage that seemed impossible for human tongues. He never questioned these powers directly anymore, having accepted them as part of the mystery that was Silvius.

  "Duke Veridian made an interesting comment today," Lucian said instead. "He implied he's known you longer than I might realize."

  Silvius's expression remained pleasantly neutral. "Marcus has encountered many travelers in his border province. His memory for faces is remarkable."

  Theorema chose that moment to stand, stretch eborately, and jump from Silvius's p to Lucian's desk, where she deliberately knocked over a small stack of formu calcutions. The disruption effectively changed the course of conversation—as had happened on numerous previous occasions when their discussions approached topics Silvius preferred to avoid.

  By the time Lucian had retrieved the scattered papers, Silvius had moved to the window, gazing out at the night sky. "The Emperor will need several days of rest before resuming duties," he said. "We should use that time to secure the educational initiatives against further interference."

  "You're right," Lucian agreed. "And we should ensure Livia and the other students are protected. If the Emperor's suspicions about the Orthodoxy's involvement prove correct, the schools themselves might become targets again."

  Silvius turned back from the window, his silver eyes reflecting the firelight in a way that momentarily made them appear to contain dancing fmes. "Tomorrow, then. For tonight, you should rest. Even demon princes require sleep occasionally."

  The casual reference to Lucian's true nature—something they rarely acknowledged explicitly—felt like a moment of rare openness between them. A reminder of the shared secrets that bound them together after so many years.

  "Goodnight, Silvius," Lucian said quietly.

  "Goodnight, my friend," Silvius replied, his voice carrying a warmth that transcended the simple phrase.

  As Silvius departed, Theorema jumped back into Lucian's p, purring contentedly. The calcution cat kneaded his thigh briefly, then settled into a comfortable position, eyes half-closed but watchful.

  "You help him avoid certain topics deliberately, don't you?" Lucian murmured to the feline.

  Theorema's purr simply intensified, neither confirming nor denying the accusation.

  Outside the window, the stars continued their ancient patterns over the Human Empire, while within the imperial pace, an Emperor breathed easily once more, saved by techniques no formu master would recognize or acknowledge. The struggle for the empire's future had entered a new phase—one that would test not just Lucian's political skills but the very foundations of his unusual partnership with the silver-eyed traveler who revealed power beyond human understanding when circumstances demanded it.

  The question of who had orchestrated the attempt on the Emperor's life remained unanswered. But Lucian knew with certainty that the battle lines were now clearly drawn, with education and accessibility of knowledge at the center of the conflict. Whatever came next would determine not just his role in the Human Empire but the direction of an entire civilization for generations to come.