Chapter 18: The Wedding

Forty thousand seats, and every one of them was full.

Linus stood in the wings of the Claiming Hall in a black coat cut by Ambrose's own tailor.

He looked at the stage where he had been lot nine.

They had hung the feed from every tower in the empire, as the Empress promised.

The great round floor was bare, and the lights came down gold.

"You do not have to walk," Wystan said at his shoulder. "There is a car at the back."

"I know."

"I was only saying."

"She paid to keep him silent for seven years," Linus said. "Now she lends us her feed and her Hall."

"She wants it watched," Wystan said. "A wedding is a good place to be seen smiling."

"Then she'll watch."

"Thank you, Wystan."

The adjutant straightened his glasses, which were mended, and for once did not say anything dry.

Then the Marshal came out of the opposite wing.

He wore full black with the baton at his hip, and no glove.

The gold in his bare hand was a thin line now, barely there.

He carried the hand open at his side where the whole Hall could see it.

He walked to the centre of the stage.

He did not look at the Empress's box, or at the cameras, or at the long white tiers.

He looked at Linus.

Linus walked out to meet him.

Forty thousand people made no sound.

Somewhere in the top rows, a baby cried and was hushed.

"For seven years the Claiming ran, and I sat in the front row and never stood," Ambrose said.

He did not use the amplifiers.

The Hall carried his voice anyway.

"This is where I should have stood. I am standing here now, in front of everyone I owe, to say one thing."

He took Linus's right hand and turned it, so that the mark on the wrist faced the crowd.

"This man was read out as a lot. He stood up and claimed me. I am here to claim him back."

Somewhere in the lower seats, a man laughed.

It was a nobleman in a violet coat in the third row.

He said it loudly enough for the nearest cameras.

"A drone and a dying Marshal! The empire is truly sentimental this year."

The laugh spread to the men on either side of him.

Linus felt Ambrose's hand tighten.

He did not let go of it, and he did not turn.

He only lifted his head and spoke, in the voice from the court, flat and carrying.

"Stand up."

The nobleman stopped laughing.

"You laughed in the Claiming Hall. Stand up and say it again."

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