by Terah Edun
His soft echo of Sebastian’s words was enough to break her out of her mental reverie.
Ciardis licked her dry lips and answered both princes at once. “But I’m not a fool, and neither are the two of you. Maybe this could be a good thing.”
“Come again?” Sebastian demanded harshly in a voice roughened not just by the trauma to his throat but by rising anger.
Ciardis cut her eyes to him; she wasn’t going to back down. Particularly because she was right.
She could see it out of the corner of her eye in the approving smile on Raisa’s face. Of course the dragon had already thought the situation through. Weighed its pros and cons carefully. Ciardis had merely gotten the bare bones of the benefits of Thanar’s ability to step between realms and the side effects from him rising beyond the bond.
It was just bare bones, but even bones could have gristle in them. She got the feeling that this new development gave them more hope than they’d thought at first glance.
Seeing that Sebastian was veritably ready to explode, Ciardis quickly said, “The bond has been an unbreakable vow ever since we sealed it.”
“Twice,” Thanar said dryly.
Ciardis’s mouth twitched but she didn’t correct him. Instead, she continued on in a rush as if he hadn’t spoken. “Now there’s a chance.”
“A chance for what, Lady Companion Weathervane?” Raisa said in a slightly mocking tone.
Ciardis spared her a minor glare.
Raisa tossed her a smirk. Clearly, the dragon was very much into teasing her human pet now.
Which was a far better move than when she had first stormed through Ciardis’s antechamber door, so Ciardis would take it.
“It’s a chance,” Ciardis said with her gaze now firmly pinned on the prince heir, “for us to make this right. Undo what we’ve done.”
Sebastian responded slowly. “Undo the bond?”
Ciardis nodded hastily. “If not undo it, then rise above it. We may not always like what the bond does to us, but now we know it’s not infallible.”
“No,” said Thanar sarcastically. “Just guaranteed to drive us mad.”
Sebastian retorted, “From what I understand, you weren’t mentally mad, you just allowed your rage to go unchecked. A rage that seems to have an unhealthy focus on those closest to you.”
Again Thanar didn’t refute his words, but he did say, “Are you signing up to be mental healer, then?”
“Not a chance,” Sebastian said with some affront. “In fact, Ciardis, if you think we can force chinks into the armor of this bond and perhaps free ourselves from its hold…I say we try.”
Thanar rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you have a brain in that imperial head after all.”
Before they could devolve into further insults, Ciardis hastily said, “When?”
“When what?” Thanar said, looking back at her.
“When do we test this?” Sebastian asked—his words spoken as if he could read her very mind.
Which he could.
Ciardis simply nodded, an acknowledgment that this was the question she had intended to ask.
They all looked at each other. Ciardis didn’t know about them, but she didn’t want to do anything to restrict her powers while threats loomed around them back, front, and center.
She stared at the two males and saw corresponding knowledge in their eyes.
Then they spoke.
“Once I’m enthroned,” Sebastian answered softly.
“Once we defeat a god,” Thanar entreated.
“Once you lot hand over that damned Kasten ship,” Raisa demanded.
They all turned to her at once. Ciardis was sure she wasn’t the only one surprised.
“The Kasten ship?” Ciardis asked, astonished. “What do you want with that?”
34
It wasn’t like she’d forgotten about the presence of the Kasten ship, but they had had so many priorities that a hidden vessel that was a large enough secret that its revelation would start an inter-empire war was something she’d rather stay hidden, not be given to the ambassador of the empire most likely to be infuriated by its very existence.
An empty silence fell as everyone tried to formulate their response. Or at the very least, switch their mindsets from the discussion of one disaster to the potential of another.
For once, just once, Ciardis sighed internally, couldn’t we finish off our other problems first?
She couldn’t help it—she just wanted to plan and institute something for once. Plan. Then institute. Not deviate.
But that’s as likely to happen at court as people are to follow the unspoken rules of morality, Ciardis thought.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Can you reiterate that again, Ambassador?”
Raisa’s lips twitched into a confident smile. “My, my, Prince Heir, just a few minutes ago you were ready to lop off my head for refusing to shore up your palace’s protective wards.”
“Politics,” Sebastian said dryly. “They turn so quickly you barely realize it.”
His tone might have been witty, but his eyes were hard, dark emeralds that glinted in the early-morning sun. The prince heir was taking this matter seriously. Very seriously.
“Fine,” Raisa said with a wave of her still-clawed hand. “As you said—politics can turn on a dime. In this instance, my people want something.”
“Something, or this thing specifically?” Ciardis demanded.
Raisa demurred to answer.
Prince Heir Sebastian stepped forward. “Then perhaps we can discuss other…gifts to the empire. We acknowledge that a debt is owed for their highest diplomat’s assistance, after all.”
Ciardis noted with a flutter of her heart that he was using the imperial we. It always seemed to come out at the oddest junctures.
And the most appropriate, she thought calmly.
But she was nervous about what that meant for Sebastian as a person. He had been coming into his own strengths and capacities for a long time. But as Emperor, a man who would be the living representation of an entire culture and civilization, what would that look like? Who would he become?
Based on her study of past rulers, Ciardis Weathervane didn’t think she’d like the answer.
She said thoughtfully, “If we could give you anything else, what would you desire?”
Raisa cocked her head sharply and said in a harder voice, “Your palace is in ruins around you, your mages are scattered to the four corners of your lands to instigate a half-baked plan to open up the war ley lines—”
Sebastian sucked in a harsh breath and Raisa paused midsentence.
After gathering her thoughts again, the ambassador said, “Yes, I know about your plan, Prince Heir. Your palace has more leaks than it has walls. But it’s not just me you should be worried about. Your former Emperor, reviled as he may have been, had allies. Powerful ones. It is they who should concern you.”
Sebastian’s jaw set in a hard line but he didn’t deny her summation. Ciardis wondered why she had never thought to question where Maradian’s allies—the ones he had anyway; she didn’t precisely believe he had more than a handful—had disappeared to. The blood loyalists. The ones who would want revenge.
Something more to ponder in all my free time, Ciardis thought with irritation. Could her enemies just take a collective break for once?
“Nevertheless,” Raisa continued delicately, “you do have something of interest to me and, of course, to my empire. The Kasten ship is a marvel of ingenuity that many of our highest minds would be delighted to study. Exactly how it cuts so easily through the waters of the Algardis Sea, which we all know is riddled with mage currents that lay claim to any other vessel that ventures too far from these shores.”
Ciardis couldn’t keep her next thought to herself. “But that’s not true,” she said. “What about the mages of the Windswept Isles? They have their own ships with cross-sea navigation abilities.”
Sebastian said ruefully, “Yes, and they’ve always kept th
ose secrets close to heart.”
Raisa chuckled darkly. “So you see why my people wish to study your Kasten ship thoroughly. Quite thoroughly.”
Thanar snorted in derision. “Let’s not be pedantic, Ambassador. The ship may do all you say and more, but its very value lies in the fact that it’s your bargaining chip.”
Raisa gave him a hard look but didn’t deny it.
Ciardis realized then that regardless of how much leeway Raisa had with her Queens, perhaps even a powerful ambassador needed a way to get back into her own court’s good graces. A warship, the only warship, capable of crossing the sea to Sahalia and threatening dragonkind with an inflicted human presence would be a good start.
“Sounds like you want our ship to keep us land-bound,” Ciardis said cautiously.
Raisa stared pointedly at her. “That’s never been a secret, sarin. You humans were born on the ground and should stay there. You’re not built to fly or sail, so keep your curious feet planted firmly on your own soil.”
“Well then,” Thanar said dryly, “nice to know I’m not the only one with a definitive opinion on the human preoccupation of sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”
Ciardis was highly tempted to thwack him against his temple, but she resisted—mightily. Mainly because Thanar was the type to hit back…especially against an unjustified attack of his person and personal space. Which he would definitely see that as.
“So,” the prince heir said, “take our toys and go home, is that it?”
Raisa guffawed. “You and your human idioms always amuse me so. Especially outside of court functions when your people tend to…how is it that you say it, ‘let loose’?”
Sebastian blinked. “Yes, I believe that’s the phrase.”
Ciardis looked at Raisa, astonished. “What sort of parties have you been going to?”
Raisa sniffed loudly. “I’ll have you know, sarin, that I am the hottest guest to invite in this entire imperial court. A day does not go by when I don’t receive an invitation to this gala or that salon.”
“Even after you devoured several human beings whole?” Ciardis said, unable to keep the astonishment out of her voice. The dragon hadn’t just done it once, but twice. Not counting the time she’d taken just chunks out of her opponents, like the dragon who had so rudely destroyed the chamberlain’s house when Ciardis lived there.
“Even so,” the mid-transformation dragon said with an upturned nose.
“I’d hazard a guess that this only increased her popularity,” Sebastian said in a suffering tone. “The court loves to fête the powerful and crush the suffering. I know this firsthand.”
“Yes,” Raisa said with a proud hiss. “We dragons value this too.”
That set Thanar off laughing. When he finally caught his breath, he said, “Humans like to think they have a moral compass above such bloody endeavors, but they, I’ve found, are the worst of all. They love blood. They love pain. And they love to look down on those they see as below them, and yet they think themselves above all that because they hide their predilections behind smiles and fans.”
Raisa smiled, showing a row of teeth that were recontorting into sharp points.
Ciardis wondered if the teeth transformation had to do with Raisa’s emotions at the time. Happiness and excitement could be a simple trigger to a dragon’s base instincts—it meant food was near or the dragon was preparing for a fight. Either way, sharper teeth would be necessary.
Raisa said with a comfortable hiss, “We dragons do not pretend. We enjoy what we enjoy.”
“My people, too, do not dissemble on such subjects,” Thanar admitted confidently. “It’s not worth our time to lie about it.”
Thanar and Raisa stared at each other, each blissfully happy in shared camaraderie.
Ciardis had the foresight not to let the first comment in her mind slip out between her lips.
But she wondered when this four-way conversation had become so “us against them.” Except this time, it wasn’t women against men. It was humans against inhumans.
Lips twitching, Ciardis had to admit it was amusing to watch Thanar and Raisa, two nonhumans from very different backgrounds, come to common ground. To her knowledge, prior to now the two had studiously ignored the other’s existence outside of necessary verbal exchanges. Not out of animosity, but merely practicality. Neither had much use for the other.
“So,” Ciardis said while finally breaking up the joking silence, “you won’t take anything else. We don’t have anything else. Seems like a fair enough trade.”
Sarcasm dripped from Ciardis’s tone as Raisa smiled broadly. Thanar shrugged.
Then they both looked to Prince Heir Sebastian for his decision, which was only right.
Because it’s not my decision to make, she thought. Ciardis wasn’t upset at the change of their focus. It made sense. But now they would see what type of ruler Sebastian intended to become. He had a lot of important decisions to make in the coming days. This was just one of many.
As Ciardis looked up from her study of her hands and over to Sebastian, she felt a slow build of confidence. That whatever decision he made, he would do so with careful thought. It didn’t have to be a perfect decision, just the one that was clearly right for an empire amid upheaval.
The prince heir, for his part, was already writing a notice on the stationery of the imperial family—conveniently stocked by Ciardis’s bedside.
The Lady Companion wondered what he was writing, but like everyone else, she would have to wait her turn.
Sebastian stayed bent over the desk for painstaking minutes. Dipping his feathered quill into the inkpot periodically, pausing for a moment’s clarity, and then writing in his fastest script with diligent work.
When he stood, he paused for a moment and stared down at the piece of paper.
Ciardis watched as Sebastian, mind apparently decided, grabbed a palmful of sand from the box the room attendants kept on a nearby stand and quickly tossed it over the wet ink. Picking up the paper with a quick flick of his hand to toss away the sand that had served its purpose, Sebastian turned toward the others in the room with a serious expression.
Ciardis swallowed deeply but didn’t speak.
Instead, she waited nervously as Sebastian took four broad steps across the room toward the Ambassador of Sahalia.
When they were standing a comfortable foot apart, Prince Heir Sebastian presented his document with his hand outstretched.
With careful diction, he said, “Your request on behalf of Sahalia is acknowledged and has been weighed. On behalf of the Empire of Algardis, I extend the gift of the Kasten ship with the knowledge that it represents the full and binding absolution of all debts owed from the Algardis Empire to the Empire of Sahalia.”
Ciardis’s jaw dropped.
Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was surprised.
Raisa hissed, “A gift by definition is one given without attachments.”
Sebastian gave the ambassador a cold smile. “Not between nations, it’s not.”
Raisa raised her head and narrowed her eyes at the human who stood almost as tall as she did. But she didn’t take the paper from the prince heir’s hand. Not yet.
“And why would I bind my empire to such a statement?” Raisa questioned.
“Because,” the prince heir said blithely, “this is my first decree as the sovereign of your empire’s most powerful neighbor. We may be separated by the seas, but you can see with your own eyes that human ingenuity has improved beyond measure since that time long before the Initiate Wars when we were subject to your sovereign decrees.”
Ciardis shifted uneasily. This was getting interesting.
“That is true,” Raisa said. “And you should know from your history that my people are not to be messed with. We gave you your freedoms, and this is how you repay us? Scheming behind our backs to break the accords and build your ships?”
“We humans are an ever-curious people,” Sebastian said gamely. “
And you of all people should know that we never listen to what we’re told.”
Thanar quipped, “I wouldn’t consider that a good thing.”
Raisa, however, was not so amused.
“Do you want to see my Queens angered?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with subtle dark emotions.
Ciardis muttered something that sounded seriously like “by the seven gods” under her breath. But she’d deny it to her dying day if you asked her about it. Watching this negotiation was one of the most tension-filled diplomatic standoffs she’d ever witnessed.
All right, it’s the only one I’ve ever witnessed, she groused to herself.
“Frankly,” the prince heir said carefully, “they can wait their turn. Behind a god. An Emperor’s rebellion. Oh, and a plague-struck city.”
Ciardis could have sworn that the ambassador’s lips twitched almost into a smile.
If I didn’t know any better, she thought, I’d say Raisa is enjoying this. Sebastian too.
Meanwhile, she felt like she might throw up at any second. This was important. It wasn’t just a declaration between personal allies; this document, if accepted, would have effects on both empires. Ciardis’s eyes went anxiously back and forth between the two verbally sparring partners.
Finally the dragon spoke softly. “Do you really want this decree to be the first piece of paper my sovereigns see as coming from your rule?”
“Would you not want our first agreement to be one of peace?” countered Sebastian.
Raisa grimaced. “You see peace, I see a declaration of war.”
Ciardis gasped. “What, why?”
She couldn’t help it. She had to know.
Thanar spoke up from his corner. “That document has underlying subtext, Golden Eyes. It’s not a list of acquiescences. It’s a list of demands. Between equals.”
Ciardis gulped tightly. “And before this?”
“Before this,” the prince heir said smoothly, not taking his eyes off the dragon’s face, “we did whatever they wanted with no questions asked. No demands given.”
“So you see,” Raisa cooed. “War.”