Chapter 389: Good Cognac

Chapter 389: Chapter 389: Good Cognac

Kamal met General Theron Aradia beside a drainage channel.

That was not where he had expected to find him.

The eastern imperial gardens spread across several terraces behind the oldest section of the palace, descending gradually from formal hedges and stone fountains into orchards, medicinal beds, and the less decorative sections that supplied herbs and flowers to half the imperial household. The afternoon had turned cool enough for Kamal to wear a dark wool coat over his usual clothes, though sunlight still warmed the pale stone beneath his shoes.

He had come looking for quiet.

Instead, he found Mezos’s father crouched beside an irrigation grate with the director of imperial grounds and two increasingly nervous gardeners.

Theron wore dark civilian trousers, sturdy boots, and a charcoal coat that remained irritatingly neat despite the soil near his knees. A folded plan rested across one hand.

"The lower bed floods because the channel narrows here," Theron was saying. "You are compensating by reducing flow from the upper terrace, which leaves those trees under-watered."

The grounds director nodded with the expression of a man who had somehow found himself receiving an engineering assessment from a retired foreign general.

Kamal stopped several meters away.

So Mezos had been right.

Theron was not gardening.

At least not innocently.

The general noticed him.

His pale eyes sharpened with recognition, and he rose.

"Kamal."

"General Aradia."

"Retired General."

"I have heard."

Theron glanced toward the plans.

Kamal did the same.

"I also heard you were inspecting roses."

"I was inspecting drainage."

"That seems considerably less retired."

The grounds director made a poorly disguised attempt to hide a smile.

Theron looked at him.

The smile vanished.

Kamal found himself unexpectedly entertained.

"You frightened Mezos," he said.

"My son is nearly forty."

"That has not prevented him from behaving as though you might emerge from a hedge and correct his posture."

Theron folded the plan.

"I have stopped visiting his workplace."

"Yes. Now he suspects you are expanding your surveillance radius."

A faint line appeared between Theron’s brows.

"I am not surveilling him."

"I know."

Theron looked toward the lower terraces where several gardeners were moving fallen leaves into wide baskets.

"He exaggerates."

"Frequently."

Theron glanced back.

Kamal added, "Although not always."

That earned him the first hint of amusement.

The grounds director took the opportunity to excuse himself, carrying the plans and both gardeners with him before either older man found another infrastructure problem.

Theron watched them leave.

"I was only making an observation."

Kamal started along the path.

"That is how it begins."

Theron fell into step beside him.

The path curved between old citrus trees protected beneath ether-tempered glass canopies. Warm air escaped whenever one of the gardeners opened a maintenance panel, carrying the faint scent of leaves and damp earth.

For several minutes, they walked without speaking.

Kamal appreciated people capable of silence.

It had become increasingly rare.

Eventually Theron said, "Your emperor is unconventional."

Kamal laughed.

"That is a diplomatic description."

"I was attempting politeness."

"You are retired. You may stop."

Theron’s mouth moved slightly.

"He gave the population responsibility for selecting the next prime minister."

"Yes."

"Cassian approves."

"Cassian approves because he wants to watch the noble houses suffer."

"That was my impression."

Kamal nodded.

"It may be the most enthusiasm he has shown toward government since Arik returned."

Theron looked toward him.

"And Liam?"

"Also approves."

"Of course."

That particular answer held enough exhaustion that Kamal understood immediately.

"You have noticed."

"Your current generation has remarkable confidence in redesigning institutions."

Kamal stopped walking.

Theron took another step before noticing.

"Current generation?"

"You know what I mean."

"I am considerably older than you."

Theron stared at him.

Kamal smiled.

The Nurian Core had left him looking perhaps somewhere in his forties despite carrying more years than Theron had lived. It was an advantage he occasionally enjoyed weaponizing.

"You do not look older."

"That is hardly my fault."

Theron resumed walking.

Kamal followed.

"I spent most of my life around people who considered the existing structure sacred until someone stronger destroyed it," Theron said. "Arik and Liam appear to view every institution as something that should justify its continued existence."

"That is Liam."

"And Arik?"

"Arik likes deciding that rules no longer apply once they become inconvenient."

Theron gave a quiet sound that might have been agreement.

Kamal glanced sideways.

"Mezos has that problem too."

"My son respects rules."

"Your son crosses them whenever Arik looks convincing enough."

Theron stopped.

Kamal continued several steps before turning back.

"That is not reassuring," Theron said.

"It was not intended to be."

"You permitted this?"

"I have never possessed enough authority to prevent Arik from doing something once he decides it is a good idea."

"You served an emperor before him."

"Yes."

"Was Goliath similar?"

Kamal considered it.

"Worse in different ways."

Theron looked genuinely interested now.

Kamal started walking again.

"Goliath believed responsibility meant personally carrying everything until it crushed him. Arik inherited enough of that instinct to be troublesome, but Liam interferes."

"In what way?"

"He makes Arik sleep."

Theron blinked.

Kamal continued calmly.

"He also tells him when he is behaving like an idiot."

"That is useful."

"Extremely."

They reached a small stone pavilion overlooking the lower gardens. Beyond it, Deira spread across the valley, pale towers catching late-afternoon light while distant ether transit lines glowed faintly between districts.

Theron rested one hand against the railing.

"My generation was taught that a sovereign required loyalty."

Kamal stood beside him.

"This one requires interruption."

Theron laughed.

It was brief, low, and surprisingly warm.

Kamal looked at him.

Theron seemed almost startled by himself.

Then he shook his head.

"Perhaps that is what bothers me about Mezos."

"That he interrupts the emperor?"

"That he does it so casually."

Kamal understood.

"He is good at his job."

"I know."

"He has Arik’s trust."

"I know that too."

"And Severin has no complaint about him."

Theron sighed.

"I am being managed."

"Yes."

"By several people."

"Because apparently one was insufficient."

That drew another laugh.

Kamal decided he liked the sound.

They remained by the pavilion for a while, discussing nothing particularly important: the gardens, Agaron’s military retirement structure, the fact that Mezos had somehow survived years beside Arik without developing better judgment.

Eventually Theron glanced toward the palace.

"I should return before my son decides I have infiltrated another department."

"Sensible."

Theron turned.

Kamal hesitated only briefly.

"Do you drink cognac?"

Theron looked back.

"Yes."

"Good cognac?"

"I prefer it."

Kamal nodded toward a smaller path leading away from the main palace.

"I have a bottle."

Theron raised an eyebrow.

"Here?"

"Not in the garden."

"That was not what I meant."

Kamal’s mouth curved.

"It is in my private rooms."

"And why does this sound clandestine?"

"Because Arik believes it was finished one year ago."

Theron stared at him.

Kamal lowered his voice.

"It is decades old, from before the Gate sealed completely."

For the first time since meeting him, Theron looked impressed.

"You hid that from your emperor?"

"I protected it from my emperor."

"There is a distinction?"

"A very important one."

Theron considered him for a moment.

Then stepped away from the railing.

"One glass."

Kamal smiled.

"We will see."