Malachai's POV
Vael came in at two.
Same knock as this morning. That specific register. Which meant another miscalculation had surfaced and was waiting to be accounted for.
"Come in," Malachai said.
Vael entered. Closed the door. Stood with his hands clasped in that particular way that meant the news was layered.
"Cassius," he said.
Malachai set down his pen.
"He met with her this morning," Vael said. "Noon. His rooms. One hour." A pause. "He's withdrawn his support from our petition."
The study was quiet.
Malachai looked at the surface of his desk.
Cassius. Thirty years of careful alignment. Thirty years of mutual benefit, mutual understanding, the specific functional relationship between two people who had never needed to like each other because they needed each other more than that.
Gone in one hour.
"The fifth seat," Malachai said.
