A matter of life, death, and revolution…

“Sit,” Zuberi said, gesturing at the empty chair. “I won’t have you looming over me.”

Josan pulled out the chair and took his seat, using the time to study the two men. Zuberi’s face was drawn with exhaustion, his lips compressed in anger. By contrast Brother Nikos appeared impassive, but one who knew him well could see the pleasure that he was trying to hide.

“What do you want from me, proconsul? Or is it Emperor Zuberi I by now?”

“Proconsul,” Zuberi said.

“Then whom should I congratulate? Count Hector, perhaps?”

“Count Hector will be arrested for treason, once the new emperor takes his crown,” Nikos said.

“So why have you brought me here?” Josan asked.

“I have been persuaded, against my own good judgment, to offer you a chance to stave off your execution,” Zuberi said. “Count Hector must not be allowed to take the throne. And I cannot.”

“So you are offering me the crown. Emperor Lucius,” Josan said.

His words had been meant as a jest, but no one laughed. Zuberi’s face tightened, as if he had bitten into a sour grape, while Brother Nikos smiled….