The golden marble streets were still slick with the post-Brightening Rain when Domi left for salutatio the next morning.

He found himself smiling as he crossed the circular common around which the three alumna dormitories sat. Valens had sent a lifeholder—Arbita, it turned out—to treat Domi's ma yesterday afternoon. By the time Domi had arrived home that eve, Radix had received a message from Merula.

Domi's ma had made arrangements with Arbita to speak with Valens and visit Domi. She would arrive at the Collegium today, now as an honored guest—well, a guest anyway—and not the dangerous force of nature she so often could be.

At least, he hoped so. Radix seemed optimistic after Merula accepted the first batch of snatched medicines with a grunt and not an unholy fit. Perhaps this would work.

Whispers drew him out of his thoughts. Three of the older conservatory students sat under a small pavilion, leaning together over a table. They sipped coffee, something Merula never let him try. Valens hadn't let him learn to make the beverage yesterday, either. "If you're tired, get more sleep," the aedificans had said, and that was that.

Domi had noticed these Promethidae students every day so far, but they had ignored him but for curious glances, and he returned the favor. The idea of talking to other Promethidae youths set him on edge. He was not one of them and didn't understand enough about their lives yet to even try to fit in. They would realize he was a Pullatus before he so much as opened his mouth.

He hoped to avoid them today as well, but it was not to be. As soon as he glanced their way, the whispers stopped, and one of them called, "Hey! New kid!"

Domi grimaced. There were not too many other people the boy could be addressing. He squared his shoulders and summoned all the swagger of the Reges Heres Pullati. "Hello, friends," he said, striding toward them.

They sat up a little straighter and eyed him with curiosity. Domi did not spot a single amicable face in the bunch, but neither did they strike him as hostile.

The boy who had addressed him leaned back, resting his elbows on the table behind him and crossing his feet at the ankles. He wore his curly black hair shorn close to his scalp, and a vibrant green laurel glowed at his throat. Silvula Salutis curia counted scores of lifeholders among their numbers. Way back before some historical Rex granted Praetors Imperium—and, with the right to rule, provincias to govern—a group of lifeholders founded the curia.

"So," the lifeholder went on, "we've been wondering..."

"You've got questions, I've got answers." At least, Domi hoped he would know how to answer, and that his answers wouldn't embarrass him.

His quip earned him a thin smile. "You're new to the curia. Did your family marry into Silvula Salutis, or..." The lifeholder tilted his head, glancing at Domi's throat and away.

"That's not really what you want to ask." Might as well get it over with. He held back a sigh. Their curiosity was natural even if it annoyed him.

"Why don't you have a laurel?" one of the girls—an Empowered mindholder with a gold-banded sapphire laurel—asked. Her companion hushed her with an uneasy glance Domi's way.

He offered what he hoped looked like an easy smile. In truth though, the question felt dangerous. These people perceived themselves as so high above people like him that they killed Pyrrhaei for minor crimes without any consequences. What would they think if they realized where he came from? He doubted they would welcome a Pullatus.

He did not need to wonder for long. "He has no laurel because he's a feral," a voice cut in behind him.

A chill swept through Domi as he turned around and found himself face-to-face with the girl he grabbed a few days before. The girl who left him bleeding to death in a back alley and who was so precious he had been executed for the crime of grabbing her. The Praetor's daughter and future ruler of Provincia Sicarii. Edera.

"A feral?" a starholder girl with long glossy dark-brown hair gasped. Her gaze took Domi in from head to toe like she beheld a dog that had sprouted a second head.

Edera nodded, casting Domi a haughty glare. "Yes, and a dangerous one at that. He's a criminal. He attacked me."

The other girl, who had asked where his laurel was, flicked Domi a disdainful glance. "Oh, you're him. The Pullatus."

"How's your stomach, Domi?" Edera asked, her tone a blade wrapped in silk. She had seemed much smaller when he tried to take some of her blood, a petite golden waif with short pink hair. Now she seemed to tower over him as a cruel smile curled her lip.

"Look," he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. She wouldn't attack him again. He had done nothing wrong this time, and besides, he was a Lightbearer now. Or rather, they both now realized he was a Lightbearer. She would get in trouble if she harmed him. "I'm sorry about what I did. I'm not dangerous though, I promise. I wasn't going to hurt you. I wouldn't do something like that."

"How wonderful. I'll try to remember that the next time a stranger grabs me, tries to steal my blood, and threatens to break my neck if anyone tries to help me." He lost his voice as a wave of shame washed over him, and she turned on her heel, continuing toward the hill. "I'm holding salutatio this morn," she told the other Promethidae over her shoulder. "Try to be on time." And with that, she strode away.

The other three shifted in discomfort as an awkward silence descended.

Then the Empowered mindholder rose from the table and straightened her silver paenula so the fabric fell in elegant waves over her crystal-white tunica. "I'm attending Edera's salutatio. I hope you won't dally with—" Her gaze flicked toward Domi and away, and she sneered. "—the filth." She left then, and it did not take long for her starholder friend to scurry after her with an apologetic glance Domi's way.

The lifeholder boy rose to his feet. "Well, it's been interesting," he drawled. He inclined his head to Domi. "Well met. If you would like, you may attend my salutatio tomorrow morn." He offered that same thin smile again. "I hope you will." And he strode away.

The sudden urge to grovel the way he used to back in the streets struck Domi and lingered until all three sorcerers disappeared from sight. To be certain, his knees thought he ought to throw himself face down on the ground instead of staying standing in the presence of Promethidae. His legs quaked with delayed nerves beneath his tunica. Sheer relief flooded him as he climbed the hill to Valens's domus. He hated the worldholder, but anywhere was better than here.

Anger and dejection over the encounter still filled Domi by the time he arrived at his aedificans's home. Which was why he at first did not spot anything amiss.

His aedificans was always, at least in Domi's limited experience, a stiff and stony man. But when the alumna stepped into the domus and passed through the atrium courtyard to the salutatio room as he did every day, he found Valens waiting. More icy than normal, he sat rigid in Domi's usual seat, frozen like an affronted cat, rather than sitting, unruffled, in his usual seat in front of the empty table.

His amber gaze flicked to Domi, and was the boy mistaken, or did his aedificans appear relieved by his presence?

And then Valens's gaze shifted away, and Domi's eyes followed. The boy gasped and cringed.

Merula Nocticola sat in Valens's chair, hands on her knees, leaning forward to fix them both with a stern and expectant glare. Even on bad days when she was ill, dignity radiated from her, but now she looked regal, the Rex Pullati enthroned in grim power.

It was clear she had been healed. Arbita had done more than cure the illness. Merula remained too thin, but she had gained a little weight as well as muscle tone, and her color appeared healthy.

Domi forgot how imposing she was when well. She could be scary when ill, but now her presence made him pause. It even quelled Valens.

"Dominulus Lodicis. How kind of you to show me your face."

"Hello, Ma."

"As I said, Erus," Valens said, "my alumna hasn't yet learned how to send messages through the Caeles."

"My son doesn't need magic to tell me he's still alive."

"He was otherwise occupied."

"And how was that, exactly?" She tilted her head, gaze penetrating. "You never did say what made him unable to even send Radix to me for five days. The Eternal Radiance knows Radix remained closed-mouthed on the subject."

Valens glanced at Domi. "I think your son can explain that himself."

Wait, what?

Domi had followed the unfolding argument with perverse amusement. Now, he froze as they both turned to him. "Me?" he protested. "I'm not the one who..." He blushed. Best not to talk about what Valens had done. "Ah..."

"I heard a story from a few people at salutatio last eve," Merula said, her voice casual. "About a cloudless lightning strike several hours after the morn Rain." She arched a brow and waited.

Oh Eternal Radiance, she knew. She knew and—

"That was you?"

"Huh?" came his sage response. Domi jerked his head in a hurried nod after she fixed him with a look. "Oh. Yeah."

"Yet you don't understand how to use promenia to send a message?"

"I'm a worldholder," he said with a shrug. He gave her a helpless glance. "There's a lot going on, Ma. Learning what I am. Lessons. I'm sorry for worrying you. I didn't mean to; I was just busy. But I want to stay here." He met her eyes and strove to convey his meaning without alerting Valens to the lift.

Her lips pursed. "You're fourteen, Boy. You don't get to run off and decide where you're going to live."

"Almost fifteen..."

"He is a Lightbearer, Erus," Valens said, voice tight. "By law, he must join his local curia and live and train with his kind. He did not decide to live with us, because there is no choice to be made. As a Lightbearer child, he has no other option."

The weight of Merula's attention shifted from Domi to Valens, and the boy drew a relieved breath. He had not realized he'd been holding it. "Then this is between you and me."

"Yes, at least to the extent I possess authority over the boy. The law is not mine to make or break."

Merula dipped her head in a slow nod, face inscrutable. "Did you heal him? Like you did me?" Domi almost choked. "He suffers from a blood disorder. Did you fix it?"

Valens remained unmoved. "Arbita did. My... betrothed. He was ill because someone suppressed his prometus." He did not, of course, mention the blood loss and electrocution, Domi noted with a soft snort.

"And is he safe?"

The worldholder inclined his head. "None may harm him, and when he's trained, few will be powerful enough to threaten him."

For a long time, Merula stared, her gaze cool and measuring. Domi squirmed, and he was not the one trapped beneath her regard. At last, she slapped her knees with a curt nod.

Domi held his breath. She had arrived at her decision.

"He may stay." She jabbed a finger the worldholder's way. "You hurt a single hair on his head, and we will have a problem, regardless of who and what you are. Do you understand me?"

Valens gritted his teeth. "I do."

"Furthermore, you will let me see him, and him me, whenever we wish." Valens opened his mouth, and she held up a hand. "Not a request."

The Lightbearer grimaced. "He must attend to his studies. He's very behind. I don't think you understand—"

"No, I think it is you who doesn't understand. I cannot harm you, but I think you are aware of who I am. I can, and will, make life very difficult for you and yours if you cross me."

"I suggest you not cross her," Domi cut in. Both adults gave him a quelling glare and he wilted.

"I will allow him to see whoever he wishes, within reason," Valens relented, looking like he had choked down a mug of sour milk. Domi doubted the man wanted to explain to the Praetor how he had sparked a crime wave over something so petty as refusing to let a kid see his ma.

Domi sat up straighter. "A boy invited me to salutatio tomorrow. May I go?"

Valens shook his head, not even looking at him. "No. That invitation means he considers himself your better and wants to use you. Ignore the other kids and focus on your studies."

Every Pullatus understood people who sought to use you could still prove valuable allies. Domi glanced at Merula.

She shook her head. "You're with your own kind now, Dominulus," she said, her voice soft. "It is his decision to make. But I will see you. Tonight at the Black Flight." She flicked a glance at Valens. "You hear me?"

"His evenings are already his own," Valens said in a grumbling voice.

"Good," Merula said and rose. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Promerenti. Don't make me regret it."