Emerging from the depths of the Deliverance the next day, the Kesathese shallop drifted past the Nenavarene harbor, lugsails on its twin masts rippling black and silver in a breeze too warm for Alaric’s liking. It was surrounded by a formation of ghostly Dominion coracles steered by helmsmen who were not only guiding the outsiders to the capital city but also watching their every move like hawks.
Alaric entertained the possibility that this was a trap, that he and his retinue would be slaughtered upon landing at the Roof of Heaven. It was an unlikely prospect, but he found himself almost wishing for it. A swift, violent death seemed preferable to marrying a stranger, some coldly beautiful, viperous Nenavarene woman.
As he stood at the bow of the shallop while it cruised further inland, a lush paradise unfolded miles below his feet, a maze of winding roads and rivers embedded in an expanse of green jungle. He scarcely had eyes for any of it, however, because for some reason his thoughts had strayed to Talasyn.
As the months had worn on without any sign of her, the notion that she might be dead had begun to creep up on him. It bothered him more than he cared to admit that their paths might never cross again, that he might never again see her teeth clenched in a snarl and the wiry muscles of her arms straining with every pulse of the radiance that she spun from her fingers. Granted, if she were still alive, that would only be prolonging the inevitable, but . . .
But the last that Alaric had glimpsed of Talasyn was her unkempt braid tossing in the wind as he turned and walked away from her amidst a tangle of smoke and ruins. And that felt wrong, somehow. Unceremonious, and far too abrupt.
He wondered, without really meaning to, what she would think if she ever heard about his impending marriage. He wondered this while feeling a vague, dull ache that he didn’t understand.
Talasyn looked up as the door to her chambers swung open, puzzled that it was Elagbi who entered instead of Jie, who was supposed to prepare her for the initial meeting with the Kesathese delegation.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was a little too sharp, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“I wanted to apologize.” There were bags under her father’s eyes. “I know that you are resentful because I didn’t speak up as emphatically as I should have.”
“The Dragon Queen’s word is law,” Talasyn muttered. “No one in the Dominion defies her.”
“That’s no excuse. You are my daughter and I should have fought for you, right then and there,” Elagbi said gravely. “I have since attempted to sway her from this course. Her mind is set, but I was able to persuade her to let you attend the marriage negotiations.”
Talasyn cocked her head. “How did you manage that?”
Elagbi flashed her a tired, solemn smile. “A great deal of appealing to Her Starlit Majesty’s compassionate nature . . .” At this, Talasyn snorted. “. . . as well as reminding her that the Night Empire needs to be made aware that the Lachis’ka has power of her own. And, also, by promising her that I’ll stop you from punching Ossinast the moment you see him. I’m not as young as I once was, though, so I might move a touch too slowly.”
The corner of Talasyn’s lips twitched in a reluctant smirk. She was far from mollified, but at least her anger had been redirected to those more deserving. The negotiations were supposed to be conducted between the two heads of state and their trusted advisers. This concession that Elagbi had managed to wrangle had been hard-won.
“One more thing,” said the Dominion prince. “The mood at court is currently divided. There are those who see this union as a lucrative deal, and there are those who see it as a betrayal of everything that the Dominion stands for. Kai Gitab, the Rajan of Katau, belongs firmly in the latter group, but your grandmother has assigned him to the negotiation panel.”
Talasyn blinked. “Why?”
“To mollify the opposition. Queen Urduja felt that it would be wise to ensure that all interests are represented, especially since she has assigned Lueve Rasmey of Cenderwas the role of chief negotiator. Daya Rasmey is one of Urduja’s closest allies, so the addition of Gitab balances things out. He has earned a name for himself as incorruptible and devoted to his ideals. With him on the panel, no one can accuse the Zahiya-lachis of selling out Nenavar. And with you reining in your distaste for the situation, more of the court will follow your lead.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Talasyn muttered. “They’ve known me only a few months.”
“That is immaterial,” said Elagbi. “You are She Who Will Come After. There is no shortage of nobles striving to prove themselves indispensable to your future reign. However, since Gitab is on the negotiation panel, I advise you to tread with care.” He sighed. “At least Surakwel is off gallivanting elsewhere, or we’d have an even bigger problem on our hands.”
“Who’s Surakwel?” Talasyn asked.
“A damnable headache,” Elagbi replied with a trace of humor. “His young lordship Surakwel Mantes is Daya Rasmey’s nephew. He is one of the main critics of Nenavarene isolationism, believing that the way forward is for us to integrate with the rest of Lir. Around three years ago, he and a few other nobles began lobbying the Dominion to join forces with Sardovia against the Night Empire. If anyone is going to be vigorous in their objection to this betrothal, more so than Gitab, it’s Surakwel.”
“I like him already,” Talasyn said. “What did you mean by off gallivanting? Where is he?”
“No one knows. Bit of a wanderer, that boy. He spends most of his time away from Nenavar, getting all sorts of foolish outsider notions into his head.”
“You were a wanderer in your younger years, too, Amya,” Talasyn chided. “And you married an outsider.”
Her father flushed with pleasure as he always did when she called him the Nenavarene word for father. It was the joy of lost time found again. “That I was, and that I did.”
Elagbi left when Jie arrived, gingerly carrying the Lachis’ka’s crown perched atop its velvet cushion. Talasyn stared at the object as she felt Jie’s apprehensive gaze dart over her form. She’d never made an effort to conceal how much she hated being prissied up, and it always took a lot of gentle cajoling to get her to cooperate. Today, however, was a different story.
An intimidated opponent is much easier to negotiate with, Vela had said four months ago on Queen Urduja’s flagship. While Alaric was in possession of superior ordnance, it was Talasyn who had the element of surprise on her side. He didn’t know that she was Alunsina Ivralis. And Elagbi was right—the Lachis’ka did have power of her own, and she could submit to this farce of a marriage on her terms.