Negotiators from both sides took turns signing the contract, the scene acquiring a ceremonial quality as scrawled names blossomed in ink at each stroke of the stylus. Alaric was the second to last to affix his signature, his penmanship an elegant cursive that was a surprise coming from the gauntleted hand that had killed so many and caused so much destruction. He then held the stylus out to Talasyn and she stepped forward on pitifully shaky legs. In line with her newfound resolve to stop acting like a petulant martyr, she offered him a courteous nod. One that he did not return, his expression stony.
Talasyn willed herself to not be mortified, hastily reaching for the stylus. As she did so, her bare fingers brushed against the leather of Alaric’s gauntlet and he recoiled, jerking his hand back as if he’d accidentally touched something disgusting.
She seethed, her pride taking another hit. Last night he’d called her beautiful and now he was acting as though her mere presence was a personal affront.
She tried to keep a steady hand as she signed the contract. Everyone in the room was watching her, their gazes inscrutable—not even Elagbi would show any emotion at a politically charged moment such as this.
Talasyn set the stylus down on the table. And, just like that, it was over.
Just like that, she was engaged.
“The wedding will be held a sennight after the eclipse,” said Urduja. “There will be more meetings over the next few days to discuss the specifics of the ceremony, but for now I think that we can safely say that this one is at an end. I will formally announce the betrothal to the public this afternoon.” She turned to Alaric and, with admirable fortitude, politely inquired, “And when does His Majesty plan to take Her Grace to the Light Sever?”
“In four days, Harlikaan,” said Alaric. “The sweep should be done by then.”
Talasyn fell into a perplexed silence, as did everyone else on the Nenavarene panel. Urduja was quick to recover, though, cocking her head. “The sweep?”
“Yes,” said Alaric. “It’s one last matter to take care of, so that we may remove all doubts about the legitimacy of this alliance.”
Urduja raised an eyebrow. “What doubts could you possibly still harbor, Your Majesty?”
“Doubts about my would-be bride’s other alliances,” was Alaric’s terse reply. “With the Zahiya-lachis’s permission, Kesath will conduct a sweep of Dominion territory. To make sure that Ideth Vela’s forces aren’t hiding anywhere.”
As the blood froze in Talasyn’s veins, the usually taciturn Kai Gitab spoke up. “Does the Night Empire mean to go around barging into houses and ransacking cellars and peeking under beds all throughout the islands?” The rajan’s tone was mild yet admonishing, righteous ire flashing in the brown eyes behind his spectacles.
He doesn’t know, Talasyn remembered in a panic. Because he was considered one of the opposition, Gitab numbered among the nobles kept in the dark about the deal between Urduja and Vela.
“Not only is that a gross breach of the contract,” he continued, “but it is also an insult to the Dragon Queen—”
“The Dragon Queen can speak freely about insults when she turns back the clock and stops one of her subjects from challenging me to a duel during a banquet,” Alaric interjected. “At that same banquet, Surakwel Mantes stated in no uncertain terms that he is sympathetic to the Sardovian Allfold. There is no telling how many others think like him in the Dominion court. The Lachis’ka, in particular, is a former Sardovian soldier. I would be remiss in my duty if I were to ignore all of this.”
Urduja nodded, her mouth set in a tight line. “Of course. It is vital that you confirm for yourself that Nenavar is not treating with you under false pretenses.” The Zahiya-lachis appeared to say this more for Talasyn’s benefit, as though she sensed mutiny in the way that her granddaughter was currently glowering. “How exactly do you plan to conduct your search?”
Alaric gestured to Commodore Mathire, who proceeded to elaborate with a smug briskness that grated on Talasyn’s nerves. “As we will be searching primarily for stormships and Sardovian airships, we will focus on aerial reconnaissance, sending ground troops only in areas of poor visibility from above. There is no need for us to go through anyone’s cellars. With multiple teams sent out, I believe that we can be done in two days, more or less, and take a third day to collate all our reports. The Night Emperor and the Lachis’ka can then head to Belian the morning after.”
“To minimize the possibility of collusion, I must also insist that the Lachis’ka stays put here in the palace, where I can keep an eye on her while my fleet is investigating,” Alaric added. “On the second afternoon of the search, I will conduct a sweep of my own, on the Deliverance, and Her Grace will accompany me.”
That’s preposterous, Talasyn wanted to snap, with a healthy dose of I’m not going anywhere with you thrown in for good measure, but Urduja was swift to proclaim, “I trust that you will not object to the presence of Alunsina’s guards aboard your ship.”
“And my presence as well,” said Elagbi.
Alaric’s jaw clenched. He most likely detested the idea of having more Nenavarene on his stormship than was strictly necessary. “I do not wish to inconvenience you, Prince Elagbi.”
“It’s not an inconvenience.” Elagbi smiled, all teeth. “As a matter of fact, I would cherish the opportunity to spend more time with my future son-in-law.”
Alaric blanched, and some small, petty part of Talasyn couldn’t help but cheer at his discomfiture.
“Lachis’ka,” he rumbled, not quite looking at her, “there will be no training here at the palace. We’ll put it on hold until we get to the Belian shrine.”
“After you’re done terrorizing Nenavar, you mean,” Talasyn muttered. Urduja shot her a warning look, which she ignored.
Alaric shrugged. “Call it whatever you like. It is of no consequence to me.”
And, with that, the signing of the treaty between the Night Empire and the Nenavar Dominion ended on the sourest of notes.
Logically, she knew that her grandmother had a few tricks up her jeweled sleeve, or else she would never have consented to Kesath’s investigation. But logic was no match for fear, and Talasyn spent the rest of the afternoon in a state of barely contained panic. She was jittery by the time evening fell and she was summoned to Urduja’s salon under cover of darkness.
Aside from the Zahiya-lachis, there were two other people in the room when Talasyn entered—Niamha Langsoune and Ishan Vaikar. The latter shot Talasyn a mischievous wink.
“As I see it, Kesath will most likely fail to realize that Sigwad exists. It’s not visible from the westernmost mainland, and the map of the Dominion that we provided them is an older one, charted before the Storm God’s Eye was annexed,” Urduja told Talasyn. “Even if they do stumble upon the strait, we have a way around that. I don’t want you to worry.”
Talasyn would have retorted that that ship had sailed if her attention hadn’t been taken up by what was in the middle of the salon.
A rectangular vivarium constructed from reddish hardwood and crystalline metalglass held one of the brown-furred, palm-sized monkeys that Talasyn had encountered on her first sojourn through the Sedek-We jungle months ago.