Chapter 18: Chapter 17 – Going To The Temple

Mel entered Raviel's room without a sound. He was sitting on his window sill. One leg bent against his chest, and his gaze turned outward.

“Raviel,” she called softly.

He didn't move, and Mel felt her heart sink. It had been ten days since Valens had been murdered. Ten days that Raviel hadn't spoken. Aster had told her what had happened the night when everything changed. The vision, the confrontation with the soldiers so that Raviel could reach the palace, the face-to-face with Helvia and her threats, which had made Mel shiver...

But Aster himself did not know everything, and Raviel had refused to tell them more. Mel, however, did not believe the official version of the facts. A slave had indeed been imprisoned a few days after Valens' death. He would have confessed shortly after having poisoned the emperor's wine to avenge himself for a humiliation suffered. However, Mel remembered the times when Raviel told her how kind and respectful Valens was to his slaves.

Raviel had shut himself again in silence. His murderous silence spoke more than any word. As far back as her memories went in this house, Mel could count on one hand the times Raviel had broken down. Was it the case today? She had always admired his undying resilience, as much as it actually worried her. Because she was far from naive. She knew that beneath his gentle smiles, Raviel buried immeasurable pain. She saw the shadow that clouded his gaze when he thought no one was watching him. She could hear the faint tremors in his voice. But now there was only his silence.

Anxiety crept slyly into her chest. Raviel was drowning in sadness and guilt. She knew him too well not to realize he was consumed by remorse. As for her, she couldn't push back the dull terror that invaded her when she thought that Raviel no longer had any protection. Valens had always stood as a bulwark between the patricians and Raviel. Now he would be alone. Alone to face the hatred that many had toward him. Alone to face those who wanted him dead.

She approached him quietly.

“It will soon be time.”

Raviel finally turned his head towards her, but all she could read in his grey eyes was a deep weariness. He just nodded and left his seat. Mel helped him to get ready without a word, taking care to properly adjust his toga.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" She finally asked worriedly.

“Yes, I'm going with my father anyway. And Lana will be there. I'm not going to keep you waiting outside the temple for nothing.”

Mel nodded, but her apprehension did not evaporate. On the contrary, it increased a notch when Raviel joined his father, and they left the villa in silence. Their relationship didn't appear to be improving, but Valens' death seemed to have established an unspoken truce since Magnus hadn't sought to lash out at his son in any way. As if he understood that Raviel needed time to grieve.

“How is he?”

Mel turned to face Aster, who was coming back from the kitchen. She shook her head gently.

“He’s not doing well. I do not know what to do…”

A flash of sadness darkened Aster's gaze.

“Losing a good friend is always painful. You can't do anything but be there for him.”

"I'm aware of that," she whispered. “But he's been through so much already… I wish he wasn’t going through that pain.”

Aster hesitated for a moment, before asking in a low voice:

“Mel… What happened between Raviel and Helvia?”

She froze, and a flood of emotion suddenly flooded her face. A mixture of pain, fear, and anger. Her voice quivered slightly.

"It's not for me to tell you about it. Raviel will if he wishes. But… know that Helvia is dangerous. She is a seducer. She charms in order to manipulate better afterward. It's a game for her.”

She planted her imploring eyes in Aster's gaze.

"Protect Raviel, please!"

Aster suddenly felt dull anger dawning on him. From the little he had seen, he couldn't stand Helvia, and the look she had given Raviel sent shivers down his spine. Because he knew what it meant. He had already been confronted with this kind of expression when he was only a slave to be sold. The desire to possess, to dominate, to crush. Aster was far from stupid. Helvia's threats proved to be explicit enough for him to have no doubts about her intentions. Her behavior drove him into a rising rage.

Raviel leaned back more comfortably against the wooden wall of the litter, unlike his father, who was lying on his side. The young patrician did not like this vehicle and considered it deeply despicable to force six men to walk, their backs bent by the weight of the object and its passengers, for his simple comfort. The cushions embroidered with gold thread arranged in the passenger compartment were certainly soft, but Raviel could just as well have used his legs. Unfortunately, his father had left him no choice. Showing his position of strength and his wealth was obviously a priority, Raviel thought with a touch of cynicism.

“Hold yourself properly.”

Raviel didn't move, drawing an annoyed sigh from Magnus. He straightened up to face him. The litter rocked slightly as a result of this brief imbalance.

“I am serious, Raviel. I will not tolerate any form of misconduct.”

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“No one sees me,” Raviel retorted, pointing to the veils that hid them.

They let only daylight through thanks to their light color but proved to be too opaque to allow the curious glances of passers-by to probe the interior of the cabin.

“I'm not talking about that. Now that the Emperor is dead…”

Raviel glared at him, but that didn't hide the pain that had invaded his eyes. Magnus paused for a moment, watching his son carefully.

"Now that the Emperor has been assassinated," Raviel corrected coldly.

“Now that the Emperor has been assassinated, your position is more fragile than ever. Don't you dare to make the slightest misstep.

Raviel turned his head away.

“Like you let me behave as I please before,” he whispered.

He gritted his teeth as Magnus jerked his arm sharply to force him to face him again.

“That never stopped you from acting up. You bought a gladiator just a few weeks ago!”

“But, I…”

“And it wasn't me who brought you to the Massallian justice court three years ago,” his father cut him off.

Raviel’s anger rose.

“You never believed in my innocence anyway!”

They stared at each other. Magnus didn't deny it but didn't declare anything either.

“That's not the point,” he finally replied. “The Emperor may have saved you, but now…”

Pain and anger mingled on Raviel's face.

“I defended myself,” he hissed. “What would you have wanted me to do? That I let myself be crushed? Whatever I do, it will never please you anyway! I would have had to possess a Gift to be worth something in your eyes.”

Magnus' jaw clenched, and his grip tightened on his son's arm.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

“Why?” Raviel burst out. “Because I shouldn't remind you that your son is a disappointment in your eyes?”

"Enough, Raviel!"

Magnus raised a hand as if about to strike his son, but his gesture went no further. Raviel turned his head away; his body was shaking. His anger was already vanishing in favor of an immense weariness.

“Do not worry, I will not shame our family.”

Magnus released his arm, but he didn't take his eyes off his son. He stared absently at the litter veils, but you would have had to be blind not to see the pained expression etched on his features. Raviel closed his eyes briefly as if to restore his composure, and a few moments later, he displayed a more neutral expression, burying his suffering behind a silent mask.

Magnus knew his son wasn't guilty of what had brought him to justice, or at least that his actions had proven to be legitimate. But the whole situation stuck in his throat. His lack of Gift… The constant humiliations he suffered… Raviel was by no means the heir he had expected to have. From birth, his physique already differentiated him too much from the others. A difference that had increased when it turned out that he didn't have an ounce of magic in him. Nothing but his strange visions, which could just as well be a harbinger of a madness deeply rooted in him. Perhaps it would reveal itself one day, as was the case for Cecilia, who had not supported that her son was the laughingstock of the patricians.

He who had raised Lana strictly had redoubled his severity towards his son. In his eyes, Raviel had to be irreproachable, if not able to make his blemish disappear. He had no right to make the slightest mistake, could not reveal any flaws, and had to take responsibility for each of his choices, however difficult they might be. But nothing had been able to prevent their caste from making him regret being born. Magnus couldn't bring himself to accept it, trapping them in a whirlwind of violence and anger from which they would probably never escape.

He thought of Raviel's fine features, which reminded him so much of Cecilia's. Yet… Sometimes he felt a touch of pride and admiration for his son who always stuck to his principles. But was the Emperor's death about to change things?

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