“Yes,” Jainan said. He took the microphone from the podium. Elation was running through him like a drug. “I certainly am going to make a statement.” That was enough to quiet the room down. A reporter called out another question from the back but cut off in the middle as Jainan tapped the hovering button.
“I think I may have been misleading before,” Jainan said. “I am not very good at talking about my feelings. I said in my previous interview that Kiem was a great help. What I meant was: I love Kiem, he is truly extraordinary, and there is nobody I would rather be married to. I hope this is now clear.”
A ripple went through the room—half shock, half amusement, but the only sound Jainan focused on was a low, involuntary noise from Kiem beside him and the way he pulled his wrist out of Jainan’s grip so he could take Jainan’s hand. Jainan clasped it tight, and it buoyed him up like a wave. He leaned over the microphone and gave the crowd of reporters a beatific smile. “Questions?”
Several people shouted over each other. Jainan picked out a woman in the front row, who called, “What about the treaty? Is the Emperor granting concessions?”
“She will be,” Jainan said. At the back of the room, the Auditor had sat up. Jainan turned his head to Ressid, who had the same look on her face as she’d had when Jainan blew up his first experimental shuttle drive. Jainan was exhilarated enough to nearly grin, but he suppressed it and then turned his attention on Kiem. “Does Your Highness have a statement?”
“Honestly,” Kiem said, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “I think my partner covered it.” He was talking to the reporters, but he was only looking at Jainan, and his words were only the edges of what he was saying, like the breaking crests of waves on a tide. Jainan didn’t laugh, but only because laughter was no more than a fraction of what he felt. He stepped up and kissed Kiem.
It was easy to ignore the cameras this time. Jainan shut his eyes and didn’t break away even in the bustle that surrounded them, encouraged by Kiem’s arms wrapped possessively around him. They didn’t stop until the coordinating steward announced, “Honored citizens, I believe we should suspend the conference here,” and the Ambassador coughed politely behind Jainan and said, “Your Grace?”
Jainan turned, putting his polite face on, which was hard because fireworks kept fizzing in his brain. “Yes, Your Excellency?” he said. But he realized what it was the next moment, as Ressid strode across the dais toward him.
She stopped a bare arm’s length away. Jainan searched her face, not knowing what else to do. She was achingly unchanged. All you could ever tell from Ressid was that she was in the grip of strong emotions, not which ones they were.
The press conference was breaking up. Kiem was apparently giving an impromptu interview to a handful of journalists at the edge of the dais, so they had a small pool of quiet away from everyone’s attention. “Ressid,” Jainan said uncertainly.
“Sweet children of God,” Ressid said, and flung her arms around him in a way that was not at all commensurate with her image as a senior diplomat. “I am going to murder you,” she added, low enough not to be heard by anyone else. “Or possibly myself for being so slow. Someone is going to get murdered.”
She’d last hugged him like this when he’d left for Iskat. He’d last heard her threaten to murder people when they were teenagers. Jainan suddenly wasn’t afraid, only elated and relieved, and he wanted badly to laugh. “I thought they’d made you tone down the death threats,” he said. “What if an Iskaner hears you? How was your shuttle trip?”
“Somewhat tense,” Ressid said, “‘Full-blown diplomatic crisis’ doesn’t seem to cover it. We need to talk.”
Jainan realized belatedly that Ressid would be tasked with cleaning up the chaos he had left. “I—yes. Sorry.”
“We need to go to the Auditor as well, and we’re almost out of time—excuse me? Jainan, don’t you dare apologize.” It didn’t take much for Ressid to default to the extreme condescension that only an older sibling could manage; Jainan probably shouldn’t be glad about that. “You’re the one who pried a decent negotiating position out of this whole mess. Don’t go shy and retiring on me. I’ll need you at the table.”
“Oh,” Jainan said. “Yes.” The gathered reporters and dignitaries were slowly dispersing around the plates of refreshment provided at the side of the room, but there was a reporter still hovering hopefully at Ressid’s elbow to try and get to Jainan. “Have you met Kiem, by the way?” He could have sworn Kiem’s attention was fully on his conversation with a journalist, but the minute Jainan mentioned his name, Kiem stepped up beside him. His hand brushed Jainan’s. Jainan deliberately caught it.
Kiem bowed without detaching himself. “I’ve had the pleasure over vid,” he said. “Though I think I’ve worked out some things about the call you gave me on our wedding day.”
Ressid sized him up. “Hm,” she said. “Me too. We’ll have to catch up.” She eyed the crowd around them. “Go and find a room we can talk in, Jainan. I’ll hold them off. So sorry to keep you waiting,” she added loudly to the reporter edging up to her—that was Dak, the reporter from the wedding, who had apparently managed to avoid being blacklisted. “I’d be delighted to give you a statement on the treaty amendments.” She took Dak’s arm and bore him off firmly, leaving Kiem and Jainan to escape from the others. In the crowd beside her Hren Halesar was holding court with a group of other journalists, and he caught Jainan’s eye and flicked his fingers to his forehead in an ironic salute.
“’Scuse me,” Kiem said, engineering a path around the back of a particularly burly reporter. “No more questions, sorry, we have to change for dinner. Call me tomorrow. Have a good day!”
After a few more moments of Kiem’s excuses and innocent-seeming shouldering, they found themselves near the exit, where they could make a polite escape. “I am never going to read a newslog again,” Jainan murmured as his elbow brushed Kiem’s.
“Are you kidding?” Kiem said. He was grinning at Jainan in a way that made it seem like he’d just discovered Jainan’s face and was delighted with it, which was unfair and exhilarating at the same time. “I’m going to laser tomorrow’s front page posts on our bedroom wall.”
“I will void the treaty,” Jainan threatened. Kiem laughed and bowed him through the door.
CHAPTER 31
Jainan was outwardly sober and controlled again when he left Kiem—who was moving his belongings out of his cell and back into their guest suite—and made his way to the meeting chamber the Theans had secured. It felt like the gravity had been turned down; his feet came farther off the ground when he walked. He no longer even registered the people he passed in the corridors, until one of them blocked his way.
“Your Grace?”
Chief Agent Rakal, in a freshly pressed uniform. They dipped their head in a meticulously proper bow. Jainan stopped with a faint trace of unease. But he recognized that fear as part of an old pattern, one that he didn’t have to maintain. He sketched a nod. “Agent Rakal. I’m afraid I have an appointment with the Thean delegation.”