Decian paced the length of his quarters, thinking about the testimony, wearing a path across the room’s plush carpet. Morning light filtered through the eastern windows, pale and cold. The Emberhall woke around him — voices in distant corridors, the measured tread of Ceremonial Guard changing watch, the endless machinery of Imperial governance grinding forward.

  The stimulant vial was somewhere in his trunk.

  He stopped pacing and stared at the trunk near the foot of his bed. The wooden case sat closed, innocuous. But he knew what waited inside. Buried beneath folded clothes and documentation. A small leather box, plain and unremarkable, containing two glass vials of clear liquid.

  Four drops. That's all it would take. Sharpness. Clarity. The chemical fire that kept him functional.

  It’d been weeks since he last took any. Since he found purpose in something besides function and focus. The testimony. The Blood-Debate. Making House Kasio answer for Lucius. For Hellena. For Marcelleus.

  But his hands wanted to shake. And the box sat there, offering the same solution it always had.

  He crossed to the trunk and knelt to open it.

  Stopping when it was cracked, as he thought about yesterday morning.

  The garden had been quiet when he'd entered — one of the Emberhall's interior courtyards, with open sky above. Ornamental plants lined the gravel paths — carefully maintained greenery that spoke to the wealth and permanence of the Empire. A fountain burbled at the center, water flowing over carved granite.

  Decian had come there to think. To prepare. The testimony loomed, and his mind kept circling the same thirteen names, the same tactical breakdown, the same arguments he'd rehearsed with his father for weeks.

  He walked the perimeter path, boots crunching.

  Footsteps came from behind him. Multiple sets. Heavy, deliberate.

  He turned.

  Three men approached in formal Senate attire. Light indigo robes trimmed with rose-gold thread — House Kasio colors. High-seat Senators from the markings on their breast pins. Each carried himself with the controlled precision of a man who'd known his seat was promised since childhood.

  The Kasio champions, marked by the blue sashes each one wore at the waist.

  Decian's hand drifted toward his pommel. Around the garden, other Senators and staff began to notice. Conversations stopped. Eyes turned toward them in anticipation.

  The lead man stopped a yard away. Older than the others, mid-forties, judging by the gray threading through his dark hair. His expression remained pleasant. Civilized.

  "Tribune Testa," he said with a slight bow. "A beautiful morning."

  Decian didn't return the bow. "Senator Kasio."

  "We wanted to extend our regards before tomorrow's... proceedings." The champion's tone remained light and conversational. "Senate testimony can be such a tedious affair. All that formality and procedure."

  The other two champions stood slightly behind him. Younger than their relative. Both watched Decian with the same pleasant expressions that didn't reach their eyes.

  "Is there something you need, Senators?" He kept his voice level.

  "Not at all, Tribune, not at all. Simply offering courtesy between Houses." The lead champion gestured to his companions. "We should be going. Much to prepare for, do enjoy the day."

  They moved to pass him. Saving face after the corridor humiliation.

  As the older man drew level with Decian, he leaned in slightly. Close enough that his next words carried only to Decian's ears.

  "I do hope your sister brought a funeral dress to the Capital. I will be in the first round."

  The words landed like a blade between his ribs.

  Decian turned. The champions had already taken several steps past him, continuing their walk as if nothing of importance had been said.

  The lead duelist glanced back, that same pleasant expression still fixed on his face.

  "Senators," Decian's voice carried across the garden. Clear. Controlled. Loud enough that every witness turned to watch.

  The champions stopped and turned.

  Decian held the eyes of each Kasio man. "I look forward to seeing many members of House Kasio on the Senate floor when the Blood-Debate is granted."

  The garden went silent.

  The lead champion's pleasant expression flickered, just for a moment. The others in the garden all watched now. Waiting to see how the Kasio Senators would respond to such open confidence.

  The younger champions shifted slightly. Hands already on their hilts.

  Their senior raised a hand, stopping them. His smile returned, but it had changed. Colder now. More calculated.

  "We shall see, Tribune. The Senate decides such matters; who knows what can turn up." He bowed — shallow, minimal. "Good day."

  Decian blinked, realizing he'd been kneeling at the trunk for several minutes, lost in the memory. His hands moved through the contents mechanically. Pushing aside his tribune’s whites, a set of formal robes, and reading material he’d brought for the trip, finally, he found what he was searching for.

  At the bottom, wrapped in a cloth. The leather box.

  He pulled it out and opened it.

  Two tiny vials. Pharmaceutical grade.

  I hope your sister brought a funeral dress—

  Julius would face that wolf in the arena if the Blood-Debate was granted.

  Decian lifted one vial. The glass caught the morning light.

  Four drops. That's all it would take. The sharpness. The clarity. The edge that made everything else fall away except the mission.

  He thought about his father's warning of crutches. About Uncle Lucius. About making the Senate hear what Kasio had cost them. About standing before the assembled noble Houses and speaking with absolute precision about why House Kasio owed their blood price.

  He needed to be clear for that. Present. Not performing through chemical focus.

  Decian set the vial back in the box. Closed it. Wrapped it in the cloth and placed it back at the bottom of the trunk.

  He shut the lid of the trunk and sat on top of it, with his head in his hands, waiting for the knock that would summon him to testimony.

  A few minutes later, it came sharp and precise.

  Decian stood and crossed to the door. Catus waited in the corridor, wearing a deep maroon tunic with gold threading along the collar. His saber hung at his hip.

  "They're ready. Your father's waiting."

  Decian stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him. They walked toward the common area, boots echoing on stone.

  "You see that Corvinus representative the other day? The woman with the wavy hair? She was giving me looks."

  "Looks?"

  "The kind that says she's interested in more than Senate politics." Catus grinned slightly. "Almost made me forget we're about to stand in front of the assembled Senate and call House Kasio oath-breakers."

  "Almost?"

  "Almost." The grin faded but didn't disappear entirely. "Your father's got something important to say. I can feel it."

  They reached the common area. The doors stood open.

  The family had assembled. Severus stood near the center window in his Senate robes — deep crimson with charcoal and silver threading, a black sash across his chest marking his rank as a High Senator. Gaius leaned against the wall in a wine-colored tunic, arms crossed, looking relaxed. Livia sat in one of the chairs, oxblood gown arranged carefully to accommodate the wrappings still around her ribs. Julius stood beside her in Senator's robes that matched Severus’, twin sabers visible at his belt beneath the fabric. Julia occupied the doorframe to the training room, armed and alert.

  Severus looked at Decian as he entered. "Sit."

  Decian moved to one of the empty chairs. Catus took a position near Julia.

  "Kasio will fight to kill," Severus said quietly. His voice carried cold certainty. "Yesterday's threat wasn't a mind game. They need a clean victory in the arena to restore what respect they’ve lost. Consular Houses live and die by Senate perception. They can't afford to yield."

  He looked at Julius, Julia, and Catus directly. "So when the time comes — when they break protocol or make it clear they're fighting for death — you kill them. No hesitation. Every single one of them, if that's what it takes. Understood?"

  Catus smiled. "Understood, Lord Accardi."

  Julia's hand drifted to her saber pommel. "It won't be the first Consular blue blood I've left dying in the dirt."

  Julius met Severus's eyes with calm certainty. "If they wish to make my wife a widow, they are welcome to try, father. Let's give the Senate a show to remember."

  Gaius laughed quietly from his position against the wall. “Kasio dueling champions against the best single combatants of House Testa? I'd almost feel bad for them. If it wasn’t so earned."

  Severus's expression didn't change, but something in his posture relaxed slightly. He turned his attention to Decian and Livia. "The testimony is what matters today. If we win the Tribunal on testimony and precedent, the Senate will be forced to grant the Debate without a vote. It’s clean and certain. No political maneuvering. No bought votes." He paused. "I want them all to see what Kasio cost us. Don't hide it. Don't perform civility you don't feel. Let them hear the weight of each life being taken from our ledger. Let them hear Lucius’ name."

  Decian met his father's eyes. "They'll hear it."

  Livia's tone had a cold undertone. "Every word."

  "Good." Severus straightened and gestured toward the door. "Let's go."

  They left the suite and walked to the Emberhall's main corridors.

  Decian walked beside his father. Livia and Julius followed a step behind. Gaius, Catus, and Julia brought up the rear — close enough to project unity but loose enough to avoid looking like a military formation.

  The complex sprawled around them. Other Senators moved in the same direction, flowing toward the Senate Chamber like tributaries feeding a river. House colors mixed in the procession, shades of all varieties with gold, silver, and bronze threading. Every major noble House of the Empire was sending representatives to witness today's proceedings.

  Further along, House Ferrus Senators moved in a separate group. One of them — the younger Senator who'd spoken at the meeting — raised a hand in brief salute. Decian returned it.

  The corridor opened into a broader hall. Ahead, the Senate Chamber loomed. Black marble columns flanked massive bronze doors — each door thirty feet tall, engraved with scenes of Imperial history. Early Senate sessions. Military victories from the five hundred years of the Wars of Reclamation. The birth of the Empire. The founding of Asana itself.

  Three banners hung between the first columns, each wider than a cavalry standard.

  Crimson silk marked with the symbol of Flame in thread-of-gold.

  Gray silk marked with the symbol of Steel in silver.

  Bone-white silk marked with the symbol of Attrition in blood-red thread.

  The three factions of the Tri-Liturgical Senate. Flamen, Steelus, Attrititan — ideological divisions that had governed Imperial politics since the Senate's founding twenty-five hundred years ago. Every Senator chose their faction based on which Core Doctrine they held paramount. The Flamen stood for motion, expansion, and the necessity of endless war, following the Doctrine of Flame above all else. Steelus Senators championed structure, preservation, and the institutional continuity found in the Doctrine of Steel. Attrititan’s idolized pragmatic sacrifice, acceptable loss for Imperial survival, and the necessity for collapse that embodies the Doctrine of Attrition.

  House Testa sat with the Flamen. Most Strata Houses did — warborn nobility who understood that the Empire advanced through blood and ceaseless motion forward.

  House Kasio sat with the Steelus. Consular Houses gravitated there — seatborn politicians who valued Senate power and established order above all else.

  Attrititan was where the ancient Houses of the Lineal nobility gathered; they would hold the balance. Their leaning would decide the hearing if it went to a vote.

  More Senators converged on the entrance. The flow thickened. Voices echoed off stone — conversations, greetings, political maneuvering conducted in passing glances and brief exchanges.

  Then Decian saw them.

  House Kasio.

  A group of twenty or so Senators in indigo robes moved through the crowd like a wedge. The three champions walked at their center — the lead duelist calm and composed, flanked by his younger relatives. Around them, junior Kasio members and allied representatives formed a visible bloc.

  They saw the Testa group at the same moment.

  The entire Kasio group stopped. Their hands rose in unison — fists to collarbones in salute. But the gesture was wrong. Too slow. Too exaggerated. Mocking.

  The lead champion met Decian's eyes across the distance. That same pleasant smile. That same civilized expression.

  Then they turned and continued toward the entrance, disappearing into the flow of Senators.

  Gaius's voice came from behind Decian. “I do hate the blue bloods."

  "Let them posture," Severus said quietly. "It doesn't matter."

  They reached the entrance. Ceremonial Guard stood at attention on either side of the bronze doors. One stepped forward.

  "Lord Accardi. Senator Sulla. The Senate convenes shortly. Please make your way to the Flamen section."

  "Thank you, Ragnius. It is good to see you on duty.”

  The doors stood open. Beyond them, a broad vestibule carved from white marble led deeper into the mountain. The sound of voices grew louder — Senators assembling, staff coordinating, the machinery of Imperial governance preparing to witness testimony.

  Severus led them through.

  The vestibule opened into the Senate Chamber proper.

  Decian stopped at the threshold.

  The space was vast. Tiered seating rose in concentric rings from the chamber floor to a domed ceiling and galleries a hundred feet overhead. Each tier held rows of polished wooden desks arranged in precise formation — thousands of seats divided into three sections by aisle barriers. To the left, crimson banners marked the Flamen faction's seats. To the right, gray banners designated Steelus. Directly ahead, bone-white banners claimed the Attrititan’s position.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The floor level sat thirty feet below the lowest tier. Smooth stone stretched across the chamber's center, interrupted by a rectangular pit carved into the ground — twenty yards long, ten yards wide, ringed by a low stone barrier. The trench arena. Where small Blood-Debates and Honor Duels between Senators or Champions were fought when the Senate demanded satisfaction through blood and steel.

  Light poured through apertures cut high in the dome, illuminating the chamber in cold white clarity. No shadows. No darkness. Everything visible. Everything witnessed.

  The oldest permanent building in Asana. The heart of Imperial politics.

  Oppressive in its permanence. Grand in its scale.

  And today, it would hear the rage of House Testa.

  The Senate floor stretched behind him.

  Decian stood at the podium with his father and sister on the ground level. Above them, nine thousand Senators filled the chamber. Every desk was occupied. Every eye was watching.

  Three figures sat at an elevated platform directly ahead, positioned against the wall between the Senate floor and the lowest tier. They wore robes of dark Imperial purple — the color reserved for the Inferno's direct authority. Gold death masks covered their faces, each carved differently. The first mask bore angular features, sharp and severe. The second showed softer lines but hollow eyes. The third had delicate cheekbones and a slight tilt to the jaw, almost predatory.

  Beautiful pistols hung in cross-holsters beneath their robes, visible and deliberate.

  The Arbiters.

  The Inferno's personal instruments of Imperial law. Holding jurisdiction anywhere in the Empire.

  Absolute authority made flesh.

  The center Arbiter raised a hand. The chamber fell silent instantly.

  "The Tri-Liturgical Senate is called to order." His voice carried without effort, amplified by the chamber's acoustic design. "The date is marked as the seventh day of Ignis, year 3113 After Flame. An Imperial Tribunal has been convened to hear a formal complaint brought by the noble House Testa of the Strata class against the noble House Kasio of the Consular class."

  A pause.

  "I am Arbiter Maegor. To my left is Arbiter Draeven. To my right, Arbiter Vyraxis. We will hear testimony first from the complainants of House Testa, followed by testimony from the accused. After testimony is heard, we will convene with our retinue of Law Scholars and Adjudicators to determine if precedent exists to grant the requested Blood-Debate without Senate vote."

  Maegor's mask turned toward Severus. "Lord Severus Accardi Testa. You may begin. Please step forward."

  Severus moved forward slightly. His voice carried the same controlled authority it always did.

  "Arbiters. Senators of the Empire. Thank you for convening today. House Testa brings this complaint under Article fifteen, Section thirty-seven of Senate Law — The right of blood-satisfaction for noble houses wronged through negligent command resulting in unnecessary death."

  He paused, letting the legal framework settle.

  "On the nineteenth day of Ventus, year 3113, Tribune Decian Accardi Testa — my son and Scion of House Testa — was ordered by Legate Alexander Macius Kasio to execute a cavalry charge against fortified enemy positions at sector Alpha-1-3-7. The charge was tactically unnecessary."

  Severus's voice hardened. "Legate Kasio ordered a flanking cavalry assault on a position that would have fallen from my son's infantry. Five hundred mounted troops. Against entrenched machine gun positions, wire barriers, and prepared defenses."

  The Flamen section shifted. Senators leaned forward, curious. This was their people. Their blood.

  "The charge succeeded, the position was taken. But at a catastrophic cost. Forty-three percent casualties to the sole cavalry wing of the First Testa Regiment at the time. Two hundred and fifteen Imperial Troopers dead or critically wounded. Among them, thirteen members of my line, Branch Accardi — the ruling line of House Testa. Including my brother, Lucius Accardi Testa. Including members of my son's immediate family who rode under his command."

  He let that sit for a moment.

  "My daughter, Centurion Livia Accardi Testa, nearly died in that charge. She suffered a collapsed lung and internal bleeding. She is still not fully recovered as we stand before you today. My son, the future of our House, was placed in mortal danger for an objective that required no such sacrifice."

  Severus's hand rested on the podium. "Thirteen deaths from a leading line. The Scion endangered. A ranking officer of our House almost killed. This was not acceptable loss in service to the Empire. This was negligence. This was waste. This was a Consular Legate spending Strata blood for pride. This was drift from Doctrine."

  The Flamen section murmured approval. The Steelus section remained silent, watching.

  "House Testa demands our blood be satisfied. We request that the Senate grant a Blood-Debate. If we prevail, House Kasio will pay our price in property and coin for the lives they wasted. We offer as collateral the Venia foundries under Testa allocation — three facilities with productive holdings and lands — to demonstrate the seriousness of our claim."

  He stepped back. "Arbiters. We present our testimony."

  Arbiter Vyraxis's mask tilted slightly. Her voice came high and clear. "Tribune Decian Accardi Testa. Step forward."

  Decian moved to stand beside his father. The weight of the watching Senators pressed down on him. The chamber felt oppressive now. Grand and ancient and designed to crush anyone standing where he stood.

  He thought about Lucius. About Marcellus. About Helena. About the thirteen names he'd carried since that morning.

  "Tribune Testa," Arbiter Draeven said. His mask showed hollow eyes that seemed to watch without seeing. "Describe the tactical situation at sector Alpha-1-3-7. Your assessment as commanding officer, please."

  "The sector contained freshly constructed Theocrat fortifications and trenches — wooden palisades, sandbags, machine gun nests, wire barriers, they were substantially dug in. Imperial artillery had been shelling the position for hours prior to the assault, which had comprised the defenses, but still left them functional."

  He paused. "I had two cohorts of infantry advancing on the primary fortifications. They had orders to implement a combined-arms assault. Artillery would support while they maintained constant suppressive fire and methodical advancement into the Theocrats lines. Casualties were within acceptable parameters before the charge was ordered. Twenty-two and twenty-four percent, respectively, across the First and Second Cohorts. The position was going to fall."

  "Then you received orders," Maegor said.

  "Yes, Arbiter. Legate Kasio contacted me via radio. He demanded the sector be secured within the hour. I informed him that the infantry advance was proceeding successfully and the position would fall within two hours at the current pace. He deemed that unacceptable."

  Decian's jaw tightened. "He ordered my cavalry wing to execute a flanking charge. A Smoke screen deployment and walking barrage for cover would deploy in fifteen minutes. I was expected to order an assault on the eastern trench line. With only five hundred mounted troops, the Legate wanted me to charge fortifications designed to break cavalry."

  "You objected," Vyraxis said. It wasn't a question.

  "I did, Arbiter. I reiterated that the infantry could take the position and that my cavalry was not at strength. The Legate cut me off. He said—" Decian's voice stayed flat, reciting exactly what he'd heard. 'You have your orders, Tribune. Strata do not hesitate.' Then he terminated communication."

  The Flamen section stirred. Angry murmurs.

  "I followed my orders. I formed up the wing. And I led the charge personally. We crossed no-mans-land under smoke cover and artillery suppression. Eventually making contact and breaching the enemy's line."

  He stopped, gathering his words. The chamber waited.

  "Forty-three percent casualties," He contiuned quietly. "Two hundred and fifteen lives. Thirteen from my kin. My uncle Lucius died holding the Accardi banner after we breached. I personally killed the dog that stole his life from him. My cousin Marcellus took a bayonet through the stomach during our dismount and bled out in the mud. My cousin Helena suffered catastrophic head trauma and died in triage a mere five hours later."

  His hands gripped the podium edge tightly. "My sister Livia fell from her mount during the melee. She would have died if our youngest brother hadn't pulled her out at risk to his own life."

  The Senate was absolutely silent now.

  "The position was taken, but it didn't require cavalry. The 52nd’s Artillery Corps had already shell-shocked the Theocrats. The infantry would have taken the position with their advance. The charge was tactically unnecessary because it did not serve Imperial necessity; it served Legate Kasio’s pride to see Strata die at his will."

  He released the podium. "Thirteen names erased from our ledger… For Consular pride."

  Arbiter Maegor's mask remained fixed on him. "You believe the Legate's order constituted negligent command?"

  "Unequivocally, Arbiter."

  "Yet you followed the order regardless?"

  "Yes, Arbiter. I am a Tribune of the Imperial Crucible. I am the Scion of House Testa. I am Strata, a member of the warborn nobility. I follow the orders given to me, as is my duty to our Empire. But following an order doesn't make it correct. And it doesn't absolve the officer who gave it of responsibility for what it cost."

  Decian stepped back.

  "Centurion Livia Accardi Testa," Vyraxis said. "Step forward."

  Livia moved to stand where Decian had been. She wore her oxblood gown, the wrappings around her ribs visible beneath the silk. Her voice came calm and controlled.

  "Arbiters. I commanded as my brother's second in the First Cavalry Wing during the charge at Alpha-1-3-7. I can corroborate my brother's testimony."

  She paused. "The charge was unnecessary. The position was falling to the infantry advance. But we followed our orders. I led my squad in the vanguard over the palisade barrier. My mount stumbled during the melee, and I fell. The chaos closed over me before I could recover. I suffered a collapsed lung, internal bleeding, and head trauma from a warhorse's hooves."

  Her expression didn't change. Cold and controlled fury. "My brother, Marcus, pulled me from the melee and fought over my unconscious body till the assault ended. I spent nine weeks bedridden during my recovery after fighting for my life as the surgeons worked on me after the battle. I am cleared for light duty, but as my father said, I’m still currently recovering and will not see combat deployment for another two months, at a minimum."

  "You nearly died?" Draeven asked.

  "Yes, Arbiter."

  "For a position that would have fallen regardless?"

  "Yes, Arbiter."

  Livia stepped back. Severus, Decian, and Livia stood together at the podium, waiting.

  Arbiter Maegor's mask turned toward the Steelus section. "The Senate will now hear testimony from the accused. Legate Alexander Macius Kasio, please step forward."

  Movement in the Steelus seats. A figure rose and descended the steps toward the Senate floor.

  Decian felt his chest tighten.

  The Legate wore full dress uniform — white tunic and trousers with gold threading, a carved, silvered cuirass, and a peaked cap. The charcoal and purple striped sash of his rank was knotted at his waist with campaign medals displayed across his chest. Dark hair just starting to grey at the temples. Walking with the bearing of a career officer who'd commanded men for decades.

  He should have been at the front with the 52nd Legion. Not here.

  The bastards recalled him for this.

  Alexander took a position at the opposing podium, twenty yards from where Decian stood. He bowed formally to the Arbiters. "Arbiters. Senators. I stand ready to answer this complaint."

  "Legate Kasio," Maegor said. "House Testa claims your orders at sector Alpha-1-3-7 constituted negligent command resulting in unnecessary Strata deaths. Respond."

  The Legate’s voice carried military precision. "Arbiters, the claim is meritless, and frankly slanderous. The fortifications at Alpha-1-3-7 were freshly constructed — completed within forty-eight hours of our assault. Intelligence reports indicated the enemy was actively reinforcing the position with additional troops and heavy weapons. Delaying the assault risked allowing them to establish an unbreakable defensive line."

  He gestured toward the documentation an aide had brought forward. "I submit tactical reports from the engagement as evidence. My artillery’s bombardment had damaged, but not destroyed, the fortifications. The Testa advance was slower than projected simulations. Even with a heavy infantry presence, the resistance remained organized. The position was not, as Tribune Testa claims, 'falling.' It was contested."

  The Steelus section was intent, listening.

  "I ordered a cavalry charge to exploit a gap in the enemy's eastern defenses created by the artillery barrage I also ordered," Kasio continued, an edge coming into his voice. "The charge succeeded. The position fell. The objective was secured. Casualties were within acceptable operational parameters for a breakthrough assault. I question why this complaint was allowed to proceed in any capacity; my actions were within Doctrine."

  "Forty-three percent casualties," Vyraxis said coldly.

  "Acceptable for the tactical situation, Arbiter. Cavalry assaults against fortified positions carry high casualty expectations; this is drilled into every candidate of our officer academies. Tribune Testa executed the charge successfully. His troops performed with distinction. That thirteen of those casualties were from Branch Accardi is…. an unfortunate consequence, but such concentration is not unusual in the House regiments of Strata nobility. When families serve together, some may die."

  Decian's hands clenched at his sides.

  "The Tribune claims he could have taken the position with infantry alone, perhaps eventually. But at what cost in time? The enemy was confirmed to be reinforcing. Every hour we delayed allowed them to strengthen their position. I made the tactical decision to force a breakthrough immediately, using a combined infantry and cavalry assault. That decision was sound. It allowed the Empire to move forward."

  Arbiter Draeven's hollow-eyed mask tilted. "You ordered Tribune Testa to execute the charge over his objections, did you not?"

  "The Tribune expressed concern about casualties. I acknowledged his concern and gave him a direct order. With respect, that is how command functions, Arbiter. Officers at the operational level make tactical decisions. Officers at lower levels execute them. Tribune Testa followed his orders. The assault succeeded." Alexander's voice held contempt now. "House Testa claims negligence. I claim competent command under combat conditions. The Empire advances through sacrifice. Strata Houses provide that sacrifice. That is their purpose in the Imperial structure."

  The chamber shifted. Something in that phrasing landed wrong.

  "Thirteen Accardi soldiers died serving the Empire. House Testa should be proud that blood of their leading line purchased Imperial ground in such a way. Strata nobility is measured in their blood."

  The Flamen section erupted.

  Shouts. Insults. Senators hurling themselves from their desks. The entire left third of the chamber rose on its feet, screaming abuse at the Steelus section.

  "CONSULAR SWINE—"

  "—SEATBORN CUNTS WHO'VE NEVER BLED—"

  "—HOW MUCH DID YOU PAY FOR YOUR SENATE SEAT—"

  “—BACK YOUR WORDS WITH STEEL—”

  The Steelus section rose in response, shouting back. The chamber descended into chaos.

  Arbiter Maegor slammed his fist on the platform and rose from his seat. The sound cracked like a whip. "ORDER. THE SENATE WILL MAINTAIN ORDER, OR WE WILL CLEAR THIS CHAMBER."

  The shouting continued. Maegor's hand moved toward the pistol at his chest. A single shot reverberated around the room.

  "ORDER!"

  The chamber slowly quieted. Senators sat. The hatred remained visible on every Flamen's face.

  Arbiter Vyraxis’ mask turned toward Alexander. Her voice came cold as winter steel. "Legate Kasio. You will clarify your statement regarding Strata's worth to the Empire. Now."

  Kasio stiffened slightly. "Arbiter, I merely meant—"

  "You stated that Strata nobility 'is measured in their blood.' That their purpose is to die in service. That they should be proud their blood was spent." Vyraxis's tone carried venom now. "You stand before an Imperial Tribunal and claim an entire class of the Dominion of Flame’s nobility exists solely to be expended at Consular discretion?"

  "I— no, Arbiter. I misspoke. I meant—"

  "You misspoke," Draeven said dryly. "In formal testimony. Before the Tri-Liturgical Senate. Regarding the value of Strata blood."

  All three Arbiters radiated cold fury now. Their masks remained expressionless, but their postures had shifted. Tense. Angry.

  Maegor's voice came quiet and deadly. "The Senate recognizes Strata Houses as nobility, Legate. Not expendable resources. Not tools for Consular ambition. Nobility. Earned through sacrifice, yes. But nobility nonetheless. You have disgraced this chamber with your carelessness."

  He gestured sharply. "We will continue the testimony, then convene for deliberation. You ordered the charge to secure the position within one hour. Why was that timeline necessary?"

  Kasio's voice had lost some of its certainty. "Operational planning required the sector be secured by midday to facilitate follow-on assaults in adjacent sectors."

  "Did those follow-on assaults occur?"

  A pause. "Um, no, Arbiter… They were delayed due to supply issues."

  "So the one-hour timeline was ultimately irrelevant."

  "In hindsight, yes."

  Maegor's mask turned toward Severus. "Lord Accardi. You offer the Venia foundries as collateral. Current value?"

  "Approximately forty million denarii in combined property, equipment, and annual production value."

  "And if you lose the Blood-Debate?"

  "House Kasio takes possession. We accept that risk."

  The Arbiters conferred briefly among themselves, masks leaning together, voices too low to carry.

  Then Maegor straightened. "The tribunal will convene with our retinue to determine if precedent exists for this Debate to be granted without a vote. Both parties will remain at their podiums during deliberation. We anticipate thirty minutes."

  The three Arbiters rose as one and descended from their platform, disappearing through a door behind the Senate floor.

  Silence fell over the chamber.

  Decian stood beside his father and sister, waiting.

  Across the floor, Alexander stood alone at his podium, face carefully neutral.

  The Senate watched. Thousands of eyes. Waiting to see if Strata blood would be answered for.

  The door behind the Senate floor opened, catching Decian's eye.

  He watched the Arbiters emerge, gold masks reflecting the light as they ascended to their platform. The chamber, which had been filled with low murmurs and restless movement, fell silent instantly.

  Arbiter Maegor raised his hand. "The Tri-Liturgical Senate will come to order."

  Thousands of Senators sat. Staff and representatives froze in place. The only sound was the faint echo of footsteps as the Arbiters took their positions.

  "We have come to a conclusion," Maegor said. His voice carried absolute certainty. "Based on the testimony that has been heard, Imperial law, and established precedent, we find sufficient grounds to grant the Blood-Debate requested by House Testa."

  The Flamen section erupted in approval. Shouting while their fists struck desks.

  The Steelus section remained watchful, tense.

  Maegor continued without pause. "The Blood-Debate will be held on the thirty-first day of Ignis, in this chamber. Both House Testa and House Kasio will field three champions, and three duels will be fought under Senate protocol. The Debate will be settled by whichever House achieves the majority of victories.”

  A brief pause.

  "Both parties are advised to follow protocol strictly. Duels fought in this chamber are witnessed by the Empire. Violations will be met with severe consequences."

  Arbiter Vyraxis' mask turned toward the Kasio podium. "House Kasio will match the collateral offered by House Testa in property, materials, or coin totaling forty million denarii. Additionally, for the abhorrent breach of protocol during this Tribunal, the Senate fines House Kasio fifty thousand denarii, to be paid within the week."

  Alexander stepped forward. "Arbiter, I must object—"

  "You will hold your tongue, Legate." Vyraxis' voice cut like a blade. "One more display of insolence in the face of the Inferno's authority, and your command will be brought into question. Do I make myself clear?"

  The Legate’s jaw clenched, breaking the mask. "Yes, Arbiter."

  "Good." Maegor's mask swept across both podiums. "This matter is concluded. Both parties are dismissed."

  Severus bowed formally to the Arbiters. "Thank you, Arbiters. Your wisdom and adherence to Imperial law honors the Empire."

  Maegor inclined his head slightly. Nothing more.

  Severus turned and led his family toward the exit. Decian fell into step beside his father, Livia on his other side. Behind them, Gaius, Julius, Catus, and Julia followed in a loose group.

  As they crossed the Senate floor, Decian felt eyes on them. He glanced toward the Kasio podium.

  Twenty Kasio members stood watching — Senators, the three champions, junior House representatives. All of them were silent and staring directly at him.

  The lead champion met Decian's eyes. His face twitched behind the civilized mask he wore.

  Decian stopped, and his hand in salute — fist to collarbone. Formal. Proper.

  The Kasio group didn't return it.

  He held the salute for a heartbeat before he lowered his hand, turned, and walked out.

  Behind him, the Senate Chamber came to life in discussion.