Kyra wondered if the Edlanese folk would agree with that assessment. “And Parna?”
“Parna is the young upstart who, while the two elder siblings were squabbling, stumbled upon a fortune of his own.”
Kyra sipped her wine, savoring the feel of the bubbles against her tongue. “Your comparisons are getting unwieldy, Tristam.”
His eyes twinkled. “Fair enough. Parna lies at the fork of the Vera River. She’s the smallest and youngest city-state out of the three, but she’s also extremely fortunate in her location and resources. The Parnans discovered some lucrative mines about two hundred years ago that have served them well. The river also provides an excellent defense for them, so the Parnan government spends its money on arts and learning instead of large armies. I visited their Palace once. They have poets and bards in residence, philosophers holding court every evening. It’s really quite impressive.”
“Are the Councils of Edlan and Parna similar to ours?”
“Edlan doesn’t have a Council, actually. It’s ruled by Duke Symon. He has his advisers, but they have very little power to overrule his decisions, whereas every decision made in Forge has to pass a majority vote. Parna has two Councils: one like ours and another that’s chosen by the people every—”
Tristam stopped short as someone clapped him on the shoulder. Kyra turned to see a young nobleman even taller than Tristam, looking them over with a broad smile on his face.
“Enjoying the festivities?” said the newcomer.
Tristam leaned back, eyes wide, before his face also split into a grin. “Henril! I didn’t know you would be here.” He clasped Henril’s arm with his free hand and turned to Kyra. “This is my eldest brother. I’ve not seen him in two years. Henril, this is Kyra, also under Malikel’s command.”
Brother. Henril had wider shoulders than Tristam, a heavier frame, and lighter hair, but the two men shared the same long face and tall nose. Henril took Kyra’s hand and bowed low over it. “A pleasure to meet you, Kyra. Word of your deeds reaches even into the countryside.”
Kyra wondered briefly just exactly what those deeds entailed. “Are you the brother who stole sweets from the kitchen and blamed it on Tristam?”
Henril laughed. “I’m wounded you would think such a thing, Lady Kyra. I would never betray my sibling for something as trivial as sweets.”
“It’s true,” said Tristam. “He preferred to steal meat pies.”
The two brothers were still grinning at each other, clearly looking forward to catching up. Henril looked friendly enough, but Kyra didn’t want to be the one holding back the conversation. “I’m sure you have much to talk about,” she said. “I should go check if Malikel needs me for anything.”
“Are you sure?” asked Tristam, looking hesitantly between her and Henril.
She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “If I can survive in a forest of demon cats, I’ll survive some time by myself in the ballroom. I’ll be back soon.”
Tristam gazed after Kyra’s retreating form. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her tonight, and he wondered if she’d noticed him gawking earlier. Compared with the fashionable noblewomen around them, Kyra was underadorned. Her dress had no embroidery, and she wore no jewelry or face paint. But she had a way of bringing elegance to anything she wore. The silk of her dress skimmed her subtle curves and swirled in response to her movements in a way that was simply captivating.
But Henril was here, and Tristam had already let the conversation lag too long. He turned back to his brother. “She’s not usually quite so scared. Diplomatic balls aren’t exactly her element.”
Henril crossed muscled arms over his broad chest. “I can imagine, if all I’ve heard is true. Did she really try to assassinate Malikel?”