The corners of Claudia's lips curved into an amused smile.
"Do you need me to get on my knees and beg? I don't particularly enjoy that, but if that's what you want, I could compromise."
"No need." Caelan extended a hand toward her. "You won't regret joining the Imperium. One day, you'll be grateful for the choice you made today."
Their handshake was brief and restrained, a gesture of pure formality.
Claudia tilted her head. "Your tone carries a certainty that borders on arrogance."
"Does it?" Caelan frowned. Arrogance wasn't a good habit; he'd have to fix that.
"It's not emotional arrogance," Claudia corrected softly.
It wasn't the kind of disdain a highborn knight held for a slave, nor deliberate condescension, but a natural, effortless superiority that radiated from him. His tone was calm, like a man bending down to tell an ant: From now on, you shall have an endless supply of sugar.
His arrogance was so pure that even contempt seemed unnecessary.
Claudia had never seen the Imperium's endless fleets blotting out the sky, nor witnessed their superhuman warriors tearing through enemy lines.
But in that moment, Caelan's tone, that near-benevolent arrogance, said everything.
It was the natural gaze of a higher civilization upon a lower one. Just as humans never feel the need to prove their strength to ants, because ants cannot even comprehend starships or orbital cannons, and all it takes is a kettle of boiling water to destroy the kingdom they so carefully built.
"You said we could select pure-blooded humans from across the galaxy," Claudia asked. "Can I take that as your promise?"
"You can." Caelan nodded, his voice carrying a kind of casual indulgence, the tone of someone who could afford to grant such things.
Claudia's smile deepened. "And if what I want is you?"
Caelan's breath paused for the briefest instant. "You're really not letting this go, huh?"
"What exactly do you see in me?"
"Do you not realize how precious you are?" Claudia's lips curved teasingly, her eyes glimmering with interest. "Pure genes, immense psychic power, and a status that few in the can match, aren't those worth desiring?"
"There are plenty like me!" Caelan retorted.
"Oh? Name a few."
"Neoth… and Malcador…"
He stopped mid-sentence. 'Thinking about it, there really weren't that many.'
Claudia tilted her head, studying him with a sly smile. "See? Even without meaning to, you reveal your arrogance. In this vast galaxy, only one stands above you."
Caelan frowned. "Shouldn't that be two people?"
Claudia leaned close, her breath brushing against his ear. "My dear, the way you speak about Neoth… it's special. I'd bet my life he is the Emperor. As for Malcador, he might stand beside you, but never above you."
"Don't call me dear," Caelan said sharply, stepping back. "And I've never thought that way!"
Claudia's laughter was bright and teasing. "So you're not denying that Neoth is the Emperor."
Angron kept silent. 'Father was completely outmatched. What a terrifying woman!'
"What do you actually want?" Caelan asked.
Claudia's gaze shimmered with dangerous allure. "Your genes, that's the only treasure I desire."
"So, just my genes, not me?"
Claudia's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, I can have you too? Is it too late to change my request?"
"No."
"Then your genes?"
"Also no."
"This won't do, that won't do." Claudia frowned in mock annoyance. "I'm betraying my entire kind to join the Imperium, and yet I don't even get basic courtesy?"
"When the Imperium is done, all of Nuceria will be yours."
"I don't want Nuceria. I want your genes."
"Do you even hear yourself right now?!"
Caelan was genuinely exasperated. 'If I'd known it was this dangerous for men out here, I'd have demanded an entire Custodes squad from the Emperor before leaving.'
'Try saying that again while looking at my three-meter-tall golden bodyguard, I dare you!'
Claudia only smiled sweetly. "Enough idle talk, dear Lord Caelan. Tell me, how shall I serve you?"
"How far are you willing to go?"
"Seizing control of a city-state isn't easy," Claudia explained smoothly. "The Tarch influence in Desia runs deep, and even House Octavia ranks second to them. If I challenge them outright, even with all our resources, we'll be crushed."
"I don't need you to lead a revolt," Caelan said, giving Angron a push forward. "He's the core of the uprising. He must conquer this world on his own."
Angron wasn't the only Primarch who failed to conquer his homeworld, but his tragedy still stood apart.
Claudia's concern flickered briefly. "Every knight in the city now has their eyes on you both. They won't just stand by."
"Any ideas?" Caelan asked.
Claudia leaned closer again, her breath warm against his ear. "Then let's put on a show. I'll announce that you've married into House Octavia, as my husband."
"As for him," she nodded toward Angron, "the knights will dismiss your so-called 'slave uprising' as gossip. If you want him to lead the rebellion, let him enter the gladiatorial arena as a commoner. That's where he'll find his allies."
"So that's what you were planning," Caelan muttered, taking a step back.
Her lashes fluttered, eyes glistening with tears. "After all I've done, you still doubt me?"
She turned away, shoulders trembling. "Forget it. I must've been foolish to hope."
Caelan sighed inwardly. She was good, but emotional tricks didn't work on him. Theatrical charm wasn't the key; sincerity was.
Still, her plan was the only one that made sense. The knights wanted him. If Claudia didn't "claim" him, others surely would.
But it wasn't his decision to make.
This wasn't his world to conquer; it was Angron's.
Claudia turned toward the boy, kneeling gracefully until they were eye-level. "Since you can read hearts, you should know I've told no lies."
Angron nodded. Even he couldn't deny it; she was telling the truth.
"So," she asked hopefully, "what do you think of my plan?"
After a pause, Angron replied, "Though you have… ulterior motives, your plan is sound. I'll go to the arena."
He was warning Caelan, and Caelan understood what those "motives" were.
Claudia brushed Angron's hair with a tender hand, then looked up at Caelan. "Does this child have a mother?"
"I'd suggest you pretend he doesn't," Caelan said flatly.
Normally, saying that would be an insult, but for a Primarch, it was a blessing.
"Then I shall be his mother!" Claudia declared warmly. "I, Claudia Octavia, though never married and still a maiden, vow to treat this boy as my own flesh and blood!"
Angron looked up at Caelan, not seeking permission, but silently telling him: She's serious. And she means you.
This woman was dangerous. Even Angron could barely withstand her.
And for a moment, Caelan wondered, 'Would it be so bad if Angron really had a mother like her?'
"Come, Lord Caelan," Claudia said, rising with grace. "You must be tired. I've prepared a room for you."
Caelan wasn't one to be swayed by beauty, but Emperor help him, she was sweetly dangerous.
As they climbed the stairs, Claudia brushed her fingers along the gilded railing. "Until the investiture ceremony, don't leave this palace without me," she said gently, yet firmly. "The hounds of other houses are eager to steal my precious treasure."
"Investiture?"
"The knighthood ceremony," she said, smiling mysteriously. "It's a ritual dating back five thousand years. Anyone with pure genes may become a High Knight."
"Any requirements?"
"Genetic purity, and an implant." Claudia spread her silver wings. "Every High Knight chooses their implant from their House vault. You're my husband now; the Octavia vault is yours to take from."
"Can I skip the implant? I'm a purist," Caelan said.
"I'd rewrite the rules if I could," Claudia sighed, "but House Octavia's power isn't enough for that."
Her expression was troubled, but her eyes sparkled with secret delight. If Caelan refused the implant, he'd never be able to leave her side unaccompanied.
Perfect.
Caelan fell silent. He'd come to Nuceria to raise Angron, to help him overthrow a corrupt world.
Now somehow, he was about to become a noble son-in-law.
Of all places, he'd never thought his "soft life" would begin on Nuceria.
Later, in the slaves' quarters, Caelan asked, "I'm thinking of working with her. Any objections?"
"My lord," said Oenomaus hesitantly, "no High Knight ever speaks truth. There must be a trap."
Caelan shook his head. "Every word she said was true. Angron already confirmed it."
The young girl raised her hand. "Then why would she betray her own class?"
"Because I promised hers would be the last class left standing," Caelan said, pausing. "Also… she's thirsting after me."
Oenomaus fell silent, that was clearly beyond his comprehension.
"And you really mean to let Angron enter the arena?"
"That's up to him," Caelan replied. "Whatever path he takes, I'll stand behind him, even if he wants me to burn this entire world clean."
"I must go," Angron said firmly. "If I'm to lead them, I must stand with them, not above them shouting orders."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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