Chapter Twenty: The Qarthosi Offer

Lady Kassara walked into the guest room’s waiting chamber and gave a long, resounding sigh. She was not thrilled to be in such a hot and sticky country. Warm breezes came through every opened window, and she was told it was worse if the windows were closed. So very different from her home. 

Her dress was annoying too. The large gown she was put in this morning to resemble the Korvethis women’s customary dress was much larger than what she had to endure at home. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to get through a few of the doors. 

She wasn’t alone for long. Another door that lead to the outer corridor opened and Damarion walked through. She was instantly lighter seeing her betrothed, his long brown hair was still wet from a bath and flopped on his shoulders. He had begged to begin to grow a beard but her father refused his argument. They both smiled at each other before he stepped aside and let who Kassara was really excited to see walk through. Gabryella, Princess Gabryella, her cousin, walked in with her own Korvethis gown, simply beaming. Gabryella had been stuck in Korvethis for months before she came, and though that seemed barbaric, it was nice to know that her favorite relative would be there while she made one of the most important decisions of her life. 

“Why Lady Kassara, you look utterly dashing.” Gabryella teased her in Qarthosi. 

“These dresses make it impossible to run away, that’s all they’re good at.” Kassara told her. 

“Are you planning on running away?” Gabryella pushed her towards the door. 

“Don’t put too many thoughts in my head.” Kassara told her. 

“Your grandmother would have your head if you ran.” Damarion said cooly, the only down to earth being currently in the room. 

“Are you that worried?” Gabryella asked in a not so playful tone.

Kassara took a beat to put a smile on her face and shake her head. “No, I understand why this agreement would benefit Askarr greatly and I would never do something as selfish as run away.” She looked up at her two companions. “Besides, exactly where would I run to? This place would suck all the water out of me in no time without the walls of this castle.” 

“Make sure you never go further south than this then.” Gabryella joked. 

“My dear niece, have you not learned how to speak any Korvethian while here?” Prince Azharan made his presence known with his low booming voice, already speaking the language of the country they were in. 

Gabryella turned, first shocked, but then it loosened into a grin as she quickly walked over to her uncle and gave him a hug. “I am learning Azharan, it is more difficult than I thought.” She said in Korvethian. “Besides, Kassara and Damarion would be completely lost in this language if I spoke it with them.” 

Azharan looked towards his daughter and her betrothed and saw the bewilderment in their eyes and sighed. “I suppose your mother was right to send you before.” 

The moment the door opened, all of their conversation ceased, for the only other person they were waiting on was the Duchess of Ashkarr, her grandmother. The woman walked into rooms and a wave of intimidation hit everyone in the premises. Even the guards who followed her sweated if she looked at them for too long. 

Kassara felt shivers as she remembered why her family had been summoned to this far away country. It took a lot for her grandmother to leave their rocky mountainous castle, and she knew how much this mattered to her grandmother and how much it should matter to her. 

“Kassara.” Duchess Vaelith groaned at her granddaughter as she swept in with a dark and wide gown that matched theirs. She was quick to Kassara’s side. “Your hair, child."

Kassara sighed. "What of it, Grandmother?"

Vaelith tilted her head with a grimace. "It appears to be attempting an escape."

"It has been doing so since I was born." Kassara told her stubbornly. 

The Duchess reached forward, catching one rebellious copper curl between her fingers. For just a moment, her expression softened. "Your mother used to say the same thing." She looked towards her father who gave a sad smile. Then she released the curl and straightened. "Now. Try not to start a war before luncheon."

Their group began their walk with escorted guards both from Qarthos and Korvethis down the hall. It was quite a spectacle. Kassara watched those who watched them. How the men stopped and held their heads high, how the women bent their heads. It was such an odd culture. 

As they made their way to the main hall they were stopped, not able to enter the negotiations chamber before the King. Not too different from custom, though King Malrik did make them wait an uncomfortable amount of time before he and Queen Lioraen walked through their own elaborate doorway. He was…shorter than she imagined he was going to be. His hair and crown were put up in a way that gave him a few more inches. His wardrobe was elaborate, the gray in his beard prominent. He looked so serious. Lioraen looked more wise, sensible…observant. 

“Welcome to Korvethis, Prince Azharan. I hope you have found our hospitality satisfactory.” Malrik held out his hand to the Prince who hesitated.

He finally took it and smiled. “Thank you for hosting us as we negotiate. May I introduce you to Duchess Vaelith of House Ashkarr, who has been entrusted with leading our negotiations.” Azharan stepped aside, allowing the Duchess to approach. 

Malrik’s eyes flickered toward the older woman before returning to the Prince. “The Duchess?” he repeated. 

“Indeed,” Azharan replied pleasantly. “Her Grace has spent decades overseeing the affairs of Ashkarr and had the full confidence of Her Majesty, Queen Zareya.” 

Vaelith included her head, though only slightly. “Your Majesty,” she greeted him. 

Malrik studied her. The woman was older than he had expected, her expression composed and her clothing elaborate, though it was a gown quite similar to ones in his own court, he could see small embellishments she had updated the dress with. There was something distinctly unsettling about the way she looked at him. Not with the nervous reverence he was accustomed to receiving, but with the measured attention of someone assessing an equal. 

I was under the impression I would be negotiating with the Prince,” Malrik said. 

“And you shall have my counsel whenever it is required,” Azharan assured him. “But matters of trade, territory, and the proposed arrangement between our houses fall under the Duchess’s authority.” 

Vaelith offered a restrained smile. “I trust that will not present a difficulty, Your Majesty.” 

Malrik’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Of course not.” 

Kassara, standing just behind her grandmother, had to resist the urge to smile. She had watched men bow their heads to women of authority all her life. Here, it seemed, the simple act of allowing one to speak for herself was enough to unsettle a king. 

“I am sure our negotiations will be pleasant.” Lioraen spoke for the first time and everyone turned toward her. “I have had the pleasure of meeting Princess Gabryella, but I have yet to meet the other young woman here.” 

“Your Majesty, may I introduce you to my daughter, Lady Kassara of House Ashkarr.” 

After a moment of translation from Gabryella, Kassara stepped forward, lowering her head in the respectful greeting she had practiced since childhood. “Your Mejesty.” she said, the language awkward in her mouth. 

Lioraen regarded her for a moment before offering her hand. Kassara hesitated. She had watched her father accept the gesture, but she was uncertain whether the same greeting was expected of her. 

“My daughter had traveled a great distance to be here,” Azharan said, his voice warm but deliberate. “She has taken a particular interest in learning the customs of Korvethis.” 

“Has she?” Lioraen asked, gently putting her hand back to her stomach. 

Kassara listened for the translation and then spoke back in Qarthosi to Gabryella. “She has, Your Majesty. Though, she confesses she has already found some of them rather surprising.” Azharan glanced at Kassara. 

Malrik’s expression shifted slightly. “And what has surprised you, my lady?” 

Kassara listened and then considered her answer carefully. She had been warned against speaking too freely, particularly when addressing foreign rulers. She spoke and Gabryella translated, “How differently respect is shown. In Qarthos, we lower our heads to those whose authority we recognize. Here, she has noticed that the men seem particularly determined to keep theirs raised.” 

For a moment, no one spoke. 

Then Lioraen gave a small, unexpected laugh. “An observant daughter you have, Prince Azharan.” 

“Sometimes more observant than is convenient.” Azharan replied. 

With only a few more words stated the large group made their way into the negotiation chamber where only a small fraction of the guards walked in with them. 

A long table awaited them in a brightly lit, enormous room. Large open archs lead out to  a balcony that was the length of the room. A large fireplace had been lit at least a few hours ago. Each chair looked lush and comfortable. There were stacks of parchment at each seat, cups ready to be filled and a table of small finger foods. Kassara was both awed and scared of how ready Korvethis was for a very long negotiation to take place. 

As already planned, Duchess Vaelith sat in the middle on the right side. Beside her sat her father, Azharan and to her left Princess Gabryella sat. Vaelith wanted Kassara to sit by her, but she wanted both her cousin and her betrothed to sit by her. 

The King and Queen of Korvethis sat in the middle, with two other high ranking servants beside them, as if they could not make arrangements themselves. Kassara found it so odd. 

The King settled into his chair, his gaze moving over the delegation before returning to Gabryella. "Princess Gabryella, I trust your journey was pleasant?"

Gabryella looked towards the Duchess and spoke only when she received a nod. "Pleasant enough, Your Majesty. Though I believe my cousin has developed a personal grievance against the sea."

Kassara turned toward her, Gabryella translated hers and her cousin’s "She says she had nothing against the sea. Only its apparent determination to throw her from one side of a ship to the other." Prince Azharan chuckled. "An unfortunate disagreement," Gabryella agreed solemnly. "One in which the sea appears to have prevailed."

Even Queen Lioraen smiled; King Malrik, however, seemed eager to move beyond pleasantries. "Well, I am pleased you have arrived safely. I understand your mother has entrusted you with considerable authority in these discussions."

"She has," Gabryella replied. "My mother sends her regards and her hopes that our kingdoms might find a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"As do I." Malrik inclined his head. "I believe a union between our families could be of considerable benefit to both kingdoms."

"Indeed," said Duchess Vaelith. 

Malrik turned his attention to the older woman. There was an unease in the room no one could explain quite yet.  "Your Grace, I understand House Ashkarr has been instrumental in facilitating this proposal."

"House Ashkarr has considerable interest in the prosperity of both kingdoms, Your Majesty." Vaelith folded her hands on the table. 

"Naturally." Malrik glanced toward Gabryella again. "And I imagine the prospect of joining our royal houses is equally appealing to Her Highness."

The unease rippled through the room. This time Damarion translated for her, horribly she guessed, because he had just informed her that the King wanted her cousin as a bride. 

Gabryella's expression remained perfectly composed. "Certainly, Your Majesty. Though I believe there may be some misunderstanding regarding the nature of the proposed union."

Malrik frowned. "Misunderstanding?"

Vaelith cleared her throat, tightening the fold of her hands. "The proposed marriage is between your son, Prince Cedoric, and my granddaughter, Lady Kassara Ashkarr."

Silence.

Kassara had expected surprise. She had not expected the King to look as though someone had offered him a horse when he'd been promised a warship.

"Your granddaughter?" Malrik repeated.

"Yes."

He looked toward Gabryella. "And the princess?"

"Is my niece," Azharan supplied pleasantly.

Malrik was not a fan of being surprised and hissed his annoyance. "I am aware of her parentage."

"Then we have established something upon which we agree." Kassara pressed her lips together after Gabryella translated. Her cousin did not translate for the Korvethis royalty.  Her father was going to be insufferable about that later.

Malrik's expression tightened. "I was under the impression that we were discussing a royal marriage."

"We are," Vaelith replied.

Malrik looked at her grandmother with a large frown booming above his beard. "Between my son and a lady of your household?"

Vaelith did not give the King anything more than her words. "Between your son and the future Duchess of Ashkarr."

"Who is not a princess."

"No," Vaelith agreed. "She is not."

Kassara wondered how her grandmother managed to make two words sound like an entire lecture.

Malrik leaned back. "I do not intend offense, Your Grace, but you must understand that Prince Cedoric is the son of a king. Such marriages carry expectations regarding rank."

"Naturally." Vaelith subtly nodded.

"Then surely you understand my concern." Malrik opened his hands as if he made all the sense in the world. 

"I understand that you are concerned," Vaelith said. "I am less certain that I understand why."

Kassara lowered her eyes. Beside her, Gabryella had become intensely interested in the embroidery on her sleeve.

Queen Lioraen spoke before her husband could answer. "Perhaps it would be useful to clarify Lady Kassara's position within House Ashkarr."

Vaelith inclined her head. "My granddaughter is the eldest child of my late daughter, Lady Maerys. She has been designated my successor and has spent her life preparing to inherit the duchy."

"And House Ashkarr's interests extend well beyond its borders," Azharan added. "Its trading relationships are among the most substantial in Qarthos."

"Nevertheless," Malrik said, not making eye contact, "a duchess is not a queen."

"No," Vaelith replied. "A duchess is a duchess."

Kassara was beginning to suspect her grandmother was enjoying herself. Her cousin refused to look her in the eye as she translated. "Perhaps," Gabryella interjected, "it would reassure His Majesty to know that Kassara is also a member of the royal family."

Malrik looked at her with the same annoyance as he did the Duchess. "Through what relation?"

"My father," Kassara answered, before anyone else could speak for her.

Malrik's attention shifted to Azharan. The prince smiled. "My sister is Queen Zareya."

For the first time since entering the chamber, Kassara watched Malrik appear genuinely uncertain what to say. "You are the Queen's brother?"

Azharan gave an unconvincing smile. "I have been for some years."

"Azharan," Vaelith said.

"Forgive me, Your Grace." He did not look particularly sorry.

Queen Lioraen's expression had grown thoughtful. "Then Lady Kassara is Her Majesty's niece."

"Precisely," Gabryella replied. "And my cousin."

Malrik looked between them, his frown growing somehow. "Why was this not made clear from the beginning?"

Vaelith regarded him steadily. "Because, Your Majesty, I had not anticipated that my granddaughter's worth would require an accounting of every royal relative she possesses."

The silence that followed was considerably less comfortable. Kassara felt heat rise beneath her collar. Not because she was embarrassed by her grandmother. Because, for one terrible moment, she was proud enough of her to consider smiling.

Lioraen rested one hand upon the table. "I believe we can agree that Lady Kassara's position is a distinguished one. Perhaps we should turn our attention to the interests that brought our kingdoms together."

Vaelith inclined her head once more. "A sensible suggestion, Your Majesty."

Malrik looked as though he had several things he wished to say. Fortunately, he said none of them…At least not yet. 

The silence left by the King's last objection had barely settled when Duchess Vaelith drew a folded document from the leather folio before her. "Perhaps, Your Majesty, we ought to discuss why our respective kingdoms have entertained this arrangement at all."

Malrik's expression remained guarded. "By all means."

Vaelith unfolded the document. "Korvethis has an interest in Valedouri metal."

Malrik's eyes narrowed slightly. "Many kingdoms have an interest in Valedouri metal."

Vaelith’s eyes fixed on Malrik’s"Few have quite so pressing a need for it."

Kassara watched the King's jaw tighten. News of the war Korvethis started with the close country of Sah’ir was a daily topic in Qarthos, one that did not find favor with the country they were currently in. 

"Korvethis is more than capable of managing its own affairs, Duchess." Malrik said shortly. 

Vaelith’s lip twisted up. "I have no doubt. Yet capable kingdoms still trade, do they not?"

Queen Lioraen leaned forward. "What quantities would Qarthos be prepared to offer?"

Prince Azharan answered before Vaelith could. "That depends upon what arrangements can be secured. The Valedouri are particular about their trading partners, and their metal does not pass freely through every merchant's hands."

"Then you cannot guarantee its delivery," Malrik said.

Azharan thinned his lips. "Not without first establishing the conditions of the agreement."

Malrik sat back in his chair. "A rather uncertain foundation for a marriage alliance."

"Indeed," Azharan replied. "Which is why we have come to negotiate rather than exchange wedding vows." Kassara lowered her eyes to the table Her father was enjoying himself far too much.

Lioraen studied the prince. "Am I to understand that Qarthos possesses the means to obtain the metal, but not necessarily the authority to sell whatever quantity we request?"

Azharan nodded with a quiet sigh. "A fair distinction, Your Majesty. We possess established relationships with merchants who can obtain Valedouri goods. Whether those relationships can accommodate the quantities Korvethis desires is another matter."

"And what would Qarthos expect in exchange?" Malrik asked.

Vaelith leaned forward over the table, silencing everyone. "Food."

The King blinked. "Food?"

"Grain, principally. Preserved vegetables, legumes, and other goods capable of surviving long journeys and difficult winters." Vaelith still leaned in. 

Malrik looked at each person across the table. "Surely Qarthos possesses agricultural lands."

"Qarthos does," Vaelith replied. "Ashkarr possesses considerably fewer."

Azharan spread a map across the table. "The northern territories are rich in stone and mineral deposits, but the soil is poor. Our growing season is short. A failed harvest in the south can be inconvenient. A failed shipment to Ashkarr can be catastrophic."

As Gabryella translated, Kassara realized she knew the words well. She had heard them at council meetings, over supper, and during lessons with her grandmother. ‘An empty granary is an enemy no army can defeat.’ Vaelith had said it so often that Kassara sometimes wondered whether she dreamed it.

Malrik examined the map. "And you believe Korvethis can supply these quantities?"

"Not alone," Azharan answered.

Gabryella, who had been listening quietly, spoke for the first time since the discussion began. "But Nisen might."

The room seemed to grow still. Malrik slowly raised his head. "What did you say?"

Gabryella took a breath and then met his gaze. "Nisen, Your Majesty. Their agricultural production is substantial, and their surplus grain would be of considerable value to Ashkarr."

Malrik shook his head, "I am familiar with Nisen's agricultural capabilities."

"Then we are fortunate to have found common ground." Gabryella said with no emotion. Kassara glanced toward her cousin, but Gabryella's expression was perfectly innocent.

Malrik was not convinced. He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment. "Why Nisen?"

Gabryella lifted her shoulders. "Why not Nisen?"

"Because there are other agricultural kingdoms with which Qarthos might negotiate." Malrik gestured to the map that held plenty of countries with fertile soil. 

Gabyrella nodded. "Certainly."

Malrik have a nervous chuckle. "Then why are you proposing this particular arrangement through Korvethis?"

Gabryella paused, as though considering whether the question required a serious answer. "Because Korvethis is uniquely positioned to facilitate it."

"Uniquely positioned," Malrik repeated.

"Your ports, Your Majesty. Your established shipping routes. And, of course, your prospective relationship with the Nisen crown." Gabryella said the last part a little slower. 

Lioraen's attention sharpened. Malrik set down his goblet. "What prospective relationship?"

Kassara resisted the urge to look at her cousin. Gabryella smiled. "Forgive me. Have I spoken out of turn?"

"How does Qarthos know of our discussions with Nisen?"

Azharan glanced toward his niece. Vaelith did not move at all. "Your Majesty," Gabryella said, "surely you do not imagine that a royal court can entertain foreign delegations without attracting a little curiosity."

Malrik made sure his tone showed how serious these accusations were. "These discussions have not been made public."

"No," Gabryella agreed. "I don't believe they have."

Malrik barely stopped a growl. "Then I ask again. How do you know of them?"

Gabryella folded her hands in her lap. "I have always found Korvethis a most welcoming kingdom."

Malrik stared at her."That is not an answer."

"Isn't it?"

"Princess."

"Your Majesty." Her smile softened. "During my time here, I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with a number of people at court. I found them very generous with their conversation."

"Who?"

Gabryella smiled sweetly. "Oh, I could hardly betray the confidence of people who were so kind to me."

Kassara looked down at the papers before her as Damarion translated roughly. She was going to have words with Gabryella later…Several words. Preferably somewhere private, where she could laugh without being overheard.

Malrik's expression darkened."Are you suggesting that members of my court have been discussing matters of state with foreign guests?"

"I am suggesting, Your Majesty, that people speak of many things. Trade. Marriage. Weather. The comings and goings of distinguished visitors." Gabryella held her innocence. 

"And you happened to piece together a marriage negotiation from such conversations?" Malrik spat. 

Gabryella tilted her head. "I did not say it was a marriage negotiation."

Silence. Kassara could almost hear the King's patience breaking. Queen Lioraen intervened. "Whether the princess learned of our discussions here or elsewhere, the question before us remains the same. What precisely does Qarthos believe Korvethis can provide?"

Vaelith inclined her head. "A sensible question."She drew the map closer. "Should Korvethis establish a formal alliance with Nisen, we would seek preferential access to a portion of its agricultural exports. Not a gift, nor a demand that Korvethis surrender grain it does not possess. We would purchase those goods through agreed channels, with Korvethian assistance in securing passage, storage, and predictable delivery."

"And if our negotiations with Nisen fail?" Lioraen asked.

Vaelith took a moment. "Then that portion of our agreement cannot take effect."

Malrik gave a short laugh. "So you would offer us metal you cannot guarantee in exchange for grain we do not yet control."

"An inelegant description," Azharan said, "but not entirely inaccurate." Kassara thought she saw the corner of Lioraen's mouth twitch.

Vaelith, however, remained serious."That is precisely why the terms must be carefully constructed. We are not proposing that either kingdom surrender its interests upon the strength of a promise. We are proposing that we establish the conditions under which both might profit."

"Provided your Valedouri merchants cooperate," Malrik said.

"And provided Nisen agrees to your alliance," Vaelith replied.

The two regarded one another across the table. Neither looked inclined to concede. Finally, Lioraen spoke. "Then we should begin with a conditional framework. Specified quantities, shipping obligations, the responsibilities of each party, and provisions for failure to deliver."

Azharan nodded. "That would be acceptable as a starting point."

"And the marriage?" Malrik asked.

Vaelith turned her attention to him. "The marriage would provide a lasting bond between our houses, Your Majesty. A reason for our children, and their children, to continue what we begin here." Kassara felt the familiar tightening in her chest. Our children. It was remarkable how easily people spoke of generations that did not yet exist.

"And if the trade arrangements fail?" Lioraen asked.

"Then we must decide which obligations survive them," Vaelith answered. "I would not bind my granddaughter to a foreign prince merely to secure a shipment of grain." Kassara looked at her grandmother. For the briefest moment, something warmer than calculation passed across Vaelith's face. Then it vanished. "Nor," the Duchess continued, "would I permit the people of Ashkarr to starve because their rulers were too proud to negotiate."

Malrik studied her. "And you expect us to believe that the welfare of your people is your sole motivation?"

"No, Your Majesty." The answer seemed to surprise him. Vaelith leaned back. "I expect you to believe that it is my first."

Malrik's fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair. "Then perhaps we ought to discuss the marriage itself."

Duchess Vaelith inclined her head. "Certainly, Your Majesty."

"I presume your granddaughter has been informed of what is expected of her?" Malrik rubbed his temple with one finger. 

Kassara straightened."I have, Your Majesty." she said by herself.

"And you understand the significance of marrying a prince of Korvethis?" The King asked. 

Kassara spoke to Gabyrella and she translated. "She understands that the arrangement would establish a lasting alliance between your houses."

Malrik added. "An alliance that would place considerable responsibility upon you."

"Responsibility is hardly unfamiliar to my granddaughter," Vaelith replied.

Malrik's gaze remained on Kassara."And what of your other obligations, Lady Kassara? Would this marriage interfere with your duties to House Ashkarr?"

"Quite the opposite," Gabryella translated for her cousin. "Her responsibilities to Ashkarr would remain her first consideration."

Malrik frowned."Your first?"

"She is the future Duchess," Azharan explained. "Her household will be responsible for governing Ashkarr."

Malrik’s tapping on the table grew faster. "And my son would presumably join her in that responsibility."

"Naturally," Vaelith replied with little emotion.

"Then I would expect him to be afforded the appropriate authority." Malrik said.

"Authority appropriate to his position, certainly." Vaelith said, again, with little emotion. Something in her grandmother's tone made Kassara suspect the conversation was about to become considerably less pleasant.

Silence followed, along with Malrik’d face getting redder. He looked toward Damarion. "And what role does this gentleman play in these arrangements? I do not believe we have discussed his position."

Damarion inclined his head."Damarion, Your Majesty. Of House Valren."

"Are you an adviser to the Duchess?" Malrik asked. 

Damarion hesitated. "Not…formally."

Malrik looked at him while he tapped his fingers. "A relative, then?"

Damarion looked over at Kassara for help. "Not yet." Kassara closed her eyes for the briefest moment. Oh, Damarion. He was doing that deliberately.

Malrik's expression tightened. "Then perhaps you would enlighten me."

Damarion smiled politely. He looked down the line of people who could possibly explain better than he could, but they all looked at him. "I am betrothed to Lady Kassara, Your Majesty."

Silence settled across the table. Malrik looked at Kassara. Then Damarion. Then Vaelith. "I beg your pardon?"

"Kassara and I are to be married," Damarion clarified.

"I understood that." Malrik's voice sharpened. "What I do not understand is why we are discussing a marriage to my son when your granddaughter is already promised to another man."

Vaelith regarded him calmly."Because one arrangement does not prevent the other."

Malrik stared. "I do not follow."

"Kassara will marry Damarion first," Vaelith explained. "Prince Cedoric would join her household as her second husband."

The silence that followed was magnificent. Kassara had never heard so many people say absolutely nothing with such intensity.

"Second," Malrik repeated.

"Yes."

"Husband."

"Precisely."

Malrik turned toward Lioraen. The Queen's expression was composed, though Kassara noticed that she had stopped writing. "You propose," Malrik said slowly, "that a prince of Korvethis become a second husband?"

Vaelith nodded. "That is the proposal."

"Behind another man?" Malrik scoffed. 

Damarion's eyebrows rose. "Behind me in what respect, Your Majesty?"

"In standing. In authority. In—" Malrik stopped, apparently struggling to find a suitably diplomatic word. "In precedence."

"Ah," Damarion said. He considered this. "Then I believe there has been a misunderstanding."

"Another one?" Malrik muttered with a sad chuckle.

Gabryella spoke up looking at how flush Damarion was getting. "In Qarthos, the designation of first or second husband refers to the order in which a marriage occurs. It does not establish a hierarchy between husbands."

Malrik kept looking at Damarion. "Surely the first husband enjoys certain privileges."

Gabryella continued. "Those granted by his marriage contract, yes. As would any subsequent husband."

"And you would have me believe there is no rivalry?" Malrik asked. 

Damarion glanced toward Kassara. "I imagine there could be, Your Majesty. Though I would hope we might manage our disagreements with some dignity." Gabryella made a small sound beside Kassara. It might have been a cough, but Kassara knew better.

Malrik leaned forward. "My son is a prince. He has been raised with the expectation that his position carries certain rights and responsibilities."

"As he should be," Azharan replied.

Malrik turned toward him. "Then surely you understand my objection."

"Not entirely."the prince admitted. 

"You are a prince yourself." Malrik pointed out. 

"Indeed."

"Would you have accepted such an arrangement?"

Azharan's smile broadened. "I did." Malrik blinked. Kassara watched her father settle more comfortably into his chair. "I was Lady Maerys's second husband."

For a moment, even Lioraen appeared surprised. "You were?" she asked.

"Quite happily, Your Majesty." Azharan bowed his head. 

Malrik looked between Azharan and Vaelith. "And her first husband?"

"A good man," Azharan replied. "We shared a household for many years."

Lioraen asked, "Yet you remained a prince?"

Azharan lifted his hands with a shrug. "I remain one now."

"And you possessed authority within your household?" Lioraen added. 

"Certainly."

"Equal to her first husband?" Liorean seemed to be much more interested in their cultural difference. 

Azhara thought for a moment. "In matters where our responsibilities overlapped, yes. In others, our duties differed. Neither arrangement diminished my position."

Malrik shook his head. "I find this extraordinarily difficult to comprehend."

Azharan regarded him thoughtfully. "May I ask you something, Your Majesty?" Malrik gestured impatiently. "If Prince Cedoric were to marry a ruling queen, would you expect him to possess authority equal to hers?"

Malrik thought for a moment. "That would depend upon the customs of her kingdom."

"Precisely." Azharan spread his hands. "In Qarthos, the duchy belongs to its Duchess. Her husbands support her governance, represent her interests, and hold the rights granted to them under Qarthosi law. Their authority is not determined by which one arrived first."

"Nor," Vaelith added, "does a man's worth diminish because his wife possesses greater authority."

Malrik's expression hardened."I did not suggest that."

Vaelith nodded slowly. "Then we are agreed." Kassara wondered whether her grandmother had ever lost an argument in her life. If she had, Kassara had certainly never witnessed it.

Queen Lioraen set her pen aside. "I would like clarification regarding the legal protections afforded to subsequent husbands."

"Of course," Vaelith replied.

Lioraen pointed to one sentence she wrote down. "Would Cedoric retain his Korvethian title?"

"Yes."

She went to the second sentence. "Would he be free to maintain relationships with his family and homeland?"

"Naturally."

Lioraen went to the third. "And should he and Lady Kassara have children, how would those children be recognized?"

"Under Qarthosi law," Azharan answered, "all children born within a recognized household possess legal standing. Their inheritance rights depend upon the succession provisions of the house in question."

Lioraen nodded slowly. "Then those provisions would need to be clearly defined before any marriage contract is signed."

"I would insist upon it," Vaelith said.

"And Cedoric's personal property?" Lioraen asked, Cedoric was too young to own land, but in the future that might change. 

"Likewise protected by contract."

There was a moment of quiet before Lioraen asked the next question. "Would he be permitted to travel?"

"Subject to his obligations, certainly."

There was a longer pause than before. "And if he wished to return to Korvethis for an extended period?"

"That could be negotiated."

Malrik gave a humorless laugh. "How generous."

Vaelith turned toward him. "Your Majesty, I am not proposing that your son be imprisoned in Ashkarr."

Malrik’s face had somehow grown redder. "You are proposing that he leave his homeland to join a household where another man is already established."

"Yes."

Malrik looked at the Duchess with his mouth open, his brows furrowed. "And you see nothing objectionable in that?"

Vaelith took a big breath and adjusted her clasped hands. "I see a young prince who would be welcomed into a powerful house, afforded the protections of Qarthosi law, and given the opportunity to become an influential member of its government."

Malrik was not cooling down. "At the pleasure of your granddaughter."

"At the pleasure of the Duchess," Vaelith corrected. Kassara felt the words settle upon her shoulders. The Duchess. Not yet. Not for many years, she hoped. But someday.

Malrik rose from his chair. "I will not agree to any arrangement that diminishes my son's standing."

Vaelith did not rise. "Nor would I ask you to."

"Then perhaps we have reached an impasse." Malrik huffed. 

"Perhaps." The old Duchess folded her hands. "Though I would suggest, Your Majesty, that you first determine whether your son would truly be diminished by this marriage, or whether the arrangement merely differs from what you are accustomed to."

The room fell silent. Kassara looked toward her father. Azharan's expression was thoughtful now, his earlier amusement gone. "Your Majesty," he said, "I entered House Ashkarr as a prince. I remained a prince throughout my marriage, and I remain one today. I was never asked to surrender my name, my heritage, or my dignity." His gaze softened. "And I gained a family I would not have traded for any throne." 

For the first time, Kassara saw her grandmother's composure falter. Only slightly. Only for a heartbeat, but she saw it. Azharan had spoken of Maerys, and Vaelith, who could withstand the displeasure of kings without so much as blinking, suddenly found something very interesting in the papers before her.

Lioraen rose. "Perhaps a recess would serve us all."

Malrik looked as though he intended to object. Then he glanced toward his wife. "Very well."

Vaelith inclined her head. "Until we reconvene, Your Majesties."

Kassara stood with the others, smoothing her skirts. As they turned to leave, Gabryella leaned close enough to whisper. "Well."

Kassara kept her eyes forward. "Don't."

"I was merely going to say…"

"Gabryella."

"...that I believe your second husband has made quite an impression upon his father."

Kassara bit the inside of her cheek. "You're dreadful." 

"Yes," Gabryella whispered cheerfully. "But you love me."And despite everything, Kassara nearly laughed.

As they left the room the Qarthos group split up as well. The Duchess went back to her rooms, escorted by Azhara. Damarion escorted Gabryella and Kassara back to the guest’s waiting room before he excused himself. The two girls sat sprawled out without anyone watching them. 

“Did you see the King’s face when he realized who Damarion was?” Gabryella asked her. She didn’t wait for her cousin’s response before they both started laughing. 

Kassara spent minutes laughing before she was able to speak. “We really messed up his day didn’t we?” 

“Yes yes, but he has too many good days. He needed one where some young women made him blush.” Gabryella told her. 

The silence grew with slight smiles on their faces. “I do have to admit, I don’t like feeling like I am unworthy of a prince.” Kessara finally admitted. She looked at Gabryella. “I’ve never felt a pull to a higher title, I’ve never felt jealous of you cousin, but that man made me feel like I should.” 

“He lives in a country much harsher than we do, cousin. Korvethis culture is rash, its harsh, it leaves emotions for pleasantries and berates it in all other moments. There is no room in their hearts or minds to see past their own.” Gabryella was silent for a minute. “You are wise to choose the youngest of them. There is still time for him to learn.” Kessara was still quiet, still thinking about everything that was expected of her. It could get overwhelming if she let it. Gabryella seemed to hear her thoughts. “Now that you are here, what do you think of marrying Cedoric?” 

“I’m being honest when I say I know nothing about him, and that by itself is worrisome. It was entirely different with Damarion. I’ve known him most of my life. When the betrothal came, it was merely the next step. But this man….this boy….I know nothing more than a title.” 

“It is rather odd,” Gabryella began. “That we have to make such lifelong choices so young. We don’t even know what we’re doing, let alone how to rule those around us.” She looked at the copper haired cousin to see the frown that had formed. “I know you want to make your grandmother proud, but remember she doesn’t want you to be miserable. You have every right to deny this arrangement.” 

Kessara was silent for a while, gulping back a sob. “I feel like Vaelith had planned out every year of my life. Ever since mom died, she’s had this unyielding plan to make sure Ashkarr is taken care of and she has put me on this path of a savior that I don’t know if I can fulfill.” 

Gabryella left her seat and sat beside her cousin. She took her hand in hers and squeezed. “I can’t excuse all that your grandmother does, but I do know she does not want you this stressed.” She stood and pulled Kassara up as well. “I cannot relieve all the stress on you, but I can do one thing. Come take a walk with me.” 

The courtyard was a welcome change from the suffocating formality of the council chamber. Sunlight spilled across the pale stone, warming the paths between carefully maintained hedges. A fountain murmured somewhere beyond the gardens, its steady trickle nearly drowning out the distant sounds of servants going about their duties. Here, at least, there were no kings questioning Kassara's worth or negotiating her future as though she were another commodity to be exchanged.

Gabryella had insisted they take a walk, though Kassara suspected her cousin had a particular destination in mind. Gabryella possessed an irritating talent for arranging circumstances to suit herself while pretending everything had happened by chance. They passed beneath a stone archway into a smaller courtyard, where three boys had gathered beneath a broad-limbed tree.

Gabryella slowed. Kassara followed her gaze and immediately understood. Prince Cedoric stood with two companions, apparently engaged in a heated debate about the height of the courtyard wall. He was dark haired, dressed in clothing fine enough to distinguish him as royalty, though the untidy state of his tunic suggested he had little interest in maintaining that distinction.

He looked remarkably ordinary, and remarkably young. Kassara knew he was twelve, but knowing his age and seeing him were entirely different things. She had spent the morning listening to powerful adults discuss him as though he were already a man capable of entering into treaties, managing estates, and representing his kingdom abroad.

Yet here he was, attempting to convince his friends that he could climb a wall that was clearly too high for him. One of the boys, whom Gabryella quietly identified as Tom, appeared unimpressed. The other, a servant Gabryella could not identify, seemed more entertained by the argument than invested in its outcome.

Cedoric gestured toward the wall with increasing enthusiasm. Tom folded his arms. The third boy laughed. Kassara found herself smiling despite her irritation. He reminded her of her younger brother. That realization did little to improve her opinion of the proposed marriage.

Gabryella leaned closer. "Well?"

"He looks twelve."

"He is twelve."

Kassara huffed. "Then at least we've established something accurately today."

Her cousin smothered a laugh. They lingered near the archway, partially concealed by the trailing branches of a flowering vine. Kassara felt faintly ridiculous spying on a boy who had no idea his future was being negotiated only a short distance away. She was about to suggest they leave when a sharp crash shattered the courtyard's peaceful atmosphere.

A servant girl stood beside an overturned basket, staring at the broken remains of a ceramic pitcher. Water spread across the stones, carrying small fragments of blue-painted pottery toward a nearby drain. An older attendant hurried from the adjoining passage and immediately began reprimanding her. Even from where Kassara stood, she could see the girl's distress. The servant couldn't have been much older than herself, and her face had gone pale as the attendant gestured toward the broken pieces.

The girl apologized repeatedly, but her explanations seemed only to worsen the attendant's temper. Then Kassara heard the words, ‘deducted from your wages.’She stiffened. Across the courtyard, the three boys had fallen silent. Cedoric watched the exchange for a moment before leaving his friends beneath the tree. He approached without any particular ceremony, asking what had happened. The attendant's demeanor changed immediately upon recognizing the prince, though the irritation in her voice remained.

The girl had been careless, she explained. The pitcher was expensive, intended for the palace's guests, and someone would have to pay for its replacement. 

Cedoric looked from the servant to the broken pottery. "Did she mean to break it?"

The attendant appeared confused by the question. "Of course not, Your Highness."

"Then it was an accident."

Kassara watched the attendant struggle to respond. She had expected Cedoric to dismiss the matter with a royal command. He certainly possessed the authority to do so. Instead, he asked how much the pitcher cost. The attendant couldn't provide an exact amount. Cedoric seemed genuinely puzzled that she intended to deduct an unspecified sum from the servant's wages. After another brief exchange, he reached into the pouch at his belt and offered several coins toward the replacement. The attendant hesitated before accepting them.

It was a small gesture, perhaps even an impulsive one, but Kassara found herself paying closer attention. The servant dropped to her knees to gather the broken pottery. Before the attendant could usher her away, Cedoric crouched beside her and began collecting the larger fragments. The girl looked horrified.

Tom and the other servant boy approached, clearly accustomed to their friend's behavior. Tom appeared to say something about the trouble Cedoric was likely to find himself in, while the third boy shook his head with the resigned amusement of someone who had witnessed similar situations before. Neither boy seemed particularly surprised.

That interested Kassara more than the coins. A single act of kindness might be performed for any number of reasons. It could be an attempt to impress someone, to demonstrate authority, or simply to satisfy a passing impulse. But the easy familiarity with which Cedoric's companions reacted suggested this was not unusual behavior. He was apparently the sort of boy who involved himself in other people's troubles. Whether that was admirable or foolish, Kassara had not yet decided.

Once the broken pieces had been collected, the servant thanked him profusely. Cedoric appeared almost embarrassed by her gratitude, dismissing the matter with a wave before returning to his friends. Within moments, the three boys were laughing again. The incident seemed to have passed entirely from his mind.

Kassara watched him for a while longer. She had spent her childhood learning that leadership demanded difficult decisions. Her grandmother spoke often of duty, sacrifice, and the responsibilities owed to those who depended upon House Ashkarr. Kindness was important, certainly, but Vaelith had always insisted that kindness without judgment could be as dangerous as cruelty.

Kassara wondered what her grandmother would have thought of the prince's actions. Perhaps she would have praised his compassion. More likely, she would have questioned whether he had paid the proper amount for the pitcher. The thought nearly made Kassara laugh.

"He seems kind," she murmured.

Gabryella glanced toward her, though she was wise enough not to respond immediately. Kassara continued studying the boy. He was not what she had imagined.

She wasn't entirely certain what she had imagined. Perhaps someone more like his father, stern and conscious of every privilege attached to his title. Or someone like the young noblemen who occasionally visited Ashkarr, eager to demonstrate their accomplishments and impress her grandmother.

Cedoric appeared interested in neither politics nor impressing anyone. He was simply a boy enjoying an afternoon with his friends. And that, Kassara realized, was precisely what troubled her. He knew nothing of the arrangements being discussed on his behalf. Nothing of the cold northern lands of Qarthos, or the responsibilities awaiting him should the negotiations succeed. He had no reason to suspect that the course of his life might already be changing. Kassara understood that feeling rather well.

Gabryella slipped her arm through hers, gently steering her back toward the gardens. Neither spoke for several moments as they followed the winding path away from the courtyard. Behind them, another burst of laughter rose above the fountain.

Kassara glanced back. Cedoric had apparently returned to his ambitions concerning the wall. Tom was shaking his head, while the third boy seemed to be offering advice that was unlikely to improve the situation. He would probably fall. Kassara hoped someone would have the sense to catch him.

"Well?" Gabryella asked at last.

Kassara considered the question. The prince was young, impulsive, and evidently possessed of more enthusiasm than good judgment. He would require years of growing before he could reasonably be expected to shoulder the responsibilities of a Qarthosi noble household. But he had also shown compassion when no one important was watching. He had treated a frightened servant as someone deserving of consideration rather than an inconvenience to be dismissed. Those were qualities worth something. Perhaps even more than the title he carried.

"He seems decent enough," Kassara said. Gabryella smiled but, mercifully, refrained from teasing her. They continued toward the palace. Kassara found herself thinking of the servant girl, the scattered pottery, and the coins Cedoric had surrendered without hesitation. She still disliked the idea of having her future arranged by people who seemed more interested in treaties than happiness. And she was not yet convinced that a twelve-year-old prince belonged in that future. But for the first time since arriving in Korvethis, she considered the possibility that the arrangement might not be entirely terrible. Not because he was a prince. Because, for a few moments in a sunlit courtyard, he had forgotten to behave like one.

By the time Kassara returned to the chambers assigned to the Qarthosi delegation, the sun had begun its descent beyond the palace walls. The rooms were generous, furnished with embroidered cushions, polished tables, and tapestries depicting the victories of Korvethian kings. A fire burned in the hearth despite the lingering warmth of the day, and servants had arranged a modest supper of roasted meats, bread, and fruit upon a long table near the windows.

Kassara had scarcely entered before she discovered that her grandmother had already resumed negotiations. Not with the Korvethians, thankfully, but with her own advisers. Documents lay scattered across the table, their corners held down by silver cups and small weights. Prince Azharan stood beside the window, examining a map of the western trade routes, while Damarion sat with a ledger open before him. Gabryella had claimed the most comfortable chair in the room and appeared to be enjoying a plate of fruit with considerably more enthusiasm than she had shown during the morning's discussions.

Duchess Vaelith occupied the chair nearest the hearth. She had removed the elaborate outer mantle she had worn before the Korvethian court, but there was little else to suggest that her duties had ended for the day. Her silver hair remained tightly arranged, her expression composed, and her attention fixed upon the documents before her. Kassara wondered whether her grandmother had ever spent an evening doing absolutely nothing. She suspected the answer was no.

"You're late," Vaelith observed without looking up.

"Gabryella wished to see the gardens." Kassara explained. 

"Did she?" Vaelith asked, her eyebrows raised. 

Gabryella selected another piece of fruit. "They're very beautiful."

"I imagine they are."

Kassara recognized the tone. Her grandmother knew perfectly well that the gardens had not been the sole purpose of their excursion, but evidently had more important matters to address…for now.

Azharan folded the map and joined them at the table. "The Korvethian ports could serve us well," he said, returning to a discussion Kassara suspected had begun long before her arrival. "Particularly if their arrangement with Nisen includes favorable passage for agricultural shipments. But we cannot depend upon a route that has yet to be secured."

"Nor can Korvethis depend upon metal we have not yet obtained," Damarion added.

Vaelith nodded. "Which is why neither agreement can be written as an unconditional obligation."

Kassara took a seat beside Gabryella, who silently offered her a piece of fruit. The discussions continued as supper was served. Azharan reviewed the difficulties of moving large quantities of grain through foreign ports, the expense of storing supplies, and the risks posed by seasonal delays. Damarion raised questions about merchants, tariffs, and the protections that would be necessary should either kingdom fail to fulfill its obligations.

Gabryella contributed the perspective of the Qarthosi crown, particularly where royal approval would be required to secure access to Valedouri trade. Kassara listened, occasionally asking questions, though much of the discussion concerned details she had already studied under her grandmother's instruction. There was comfort in the familiarity of it.

She understood grain reserves. She understood the importance of maintaining dependable trade routes and the consequences of a failed harvest. She had spent years learning which valleys of Ashkarr produced enough food to sustain themselves and which relied almost entirely upon shipments from elsewhere.

The people of Ashkarr could survive an insult to their Duchess. They could not survive an empty winter granary. Her grandmother had taught her that. And tonight, watching Vaelith study the maps with such fierce concentration, Kassara wondered whether the old woman saw the same thing she did whenever she looked at those narrow mountain roads. Not ink upon parchment, but the people who depended upon them.

Eventually, Azharan set aside his notes. "Then we agree that the trade provisions must remain conditional upon both kingdoms securing the necessary foreign arrangements."

"Yes," Vaelith answered. "And I want protections against interrupted shipments. Ashkarr cannot afford to discover halfway through winter that a merchant has decided his cargo is more valuable elsewhere."

"We should also establish alternative suppliers," Damarion suggested.

"Precisely." Gabryella leaned forward. "My mother will want assurances that Qarthos is not being drawn into Korvethis's war."

"Nor should it be," Azharan said.

Vaelith's expression hardened slightly. "Then we must be very careful how the metal provisions are written. A commercial agreement is one thing. An obligation to sustain another kingdom's military campaign is quite another."

Kassara noticed that her grandmother had not once mentioned the proposed marriage. It was almost possible to believe that the entire visit concerned nothing more than grain and metal…Almost.

At length, the Duchess gathered the documents into a neat stack and set them aside. "Very well. We will request a formal draft from the Korvethian court tomorrow. Nothing is to be signed until our own advisers have reviewed every provision." Azharan nodded his agreement.

"And the marriage?" Damarion asked. There it was.

Kassara looked down at her hands. Vaelith considered him for a moment before turning toward Gabryella. "What is your assessment of the King?"

Gabryella swallowed the last of her fruit. "King Malrik is proud, suspicious, and considerably more concerned with appearances than I had anticipated."

Azharan chuckled. "I suspect he would say much the same of us."

"Then we have made an excellent impression." Vaelith gave him a warning glance, though Kassara thought she detected the faintest hint of amusement. "And the Queen?"

"Much more practical," Gabryella answered. "She understands the value of the arrangement, but she will insist upon protections for her son."

"As she should." Vaelith agreed. Kassara looked toward her grandmother. The answer surprised her. Vaelith noticed. "Did you expect me to object to a mother protecting her child?"

Kassara shook her head. "No, Grandmother."

"Good. Because I intend to do precisely the same." For a moment, Kassara could think of nothing to say. She knew her grandmother loved her. That had never truly been in question. Yet affection from Vaelith was so often wrapped in instructions, expectations, and corrections that Kassara sometimes struggled to recognize it. The Duchess returned her attention to Damarion. "And you? You have been remarkably quiet regarding the young prince."

Damarion closed his ledger. "I have no objection to the arrangement in principle. The prince's position would need to be clearly established, of course, and I would prefer that he understand what is expected of him before any promises become binding."

Vaelith agreed. "Naturally."

"He is also very young." Damarion added. 

"That," Azharan said, "may be the first observation made today upon which every person in this room can agree." Gabryella smiled into her cup.

Damarion continued, apparently untroubled by the interruption. "I would not want him to arrive in Ashkarr believing himself unwanted or unwelcome. Whatever King Malrik thinks of our customs, his son should not be made to suffer for the disagreement." Kassara regarded him with renewed appreciation. Damarion had always possessed a steadiness she admired. He rarely spoke simply to fill silence, and when he offered an opinion, it was usually because he had given the matter considerable thought. She had known for some time that he would make a good husband. The thought of another joining their household still felt strange. Not wrong, necessarily, simply unfamiliar.

Azharan leaned back in his chair. "I believe the boy could benefit from a few years before anything more permanent is expected of him. There is no reason to rush the marriage itself."

Vaelith nodded slowly. "The timing can be negotiated." Then she turned toward Kassara. "And what does my granddaughter think?"

The room quieted. Kassara had known the question was coming. She had spent the better part of the afternoon considering her answer, yet now that everyone was looking at her, the words seemed considerably more difficult to arrange. She glanced toward her father. Azharan offered her a small, encouraging smile. Gabryella, for once, said nothing. Kassara folded her hands in her lap. "I think King Malrik is going to be difficult."

A brief silence followed. Then Azharan laughed. Even Vaelith's expression softened. "That is not quite what I asked," her grandmother replied.

"No, Grandmother." Kassara agreed. 

"Have you formed an opinion of Prince Cedoric?"

Kassara thought of the courtyard. Of the sunlight upon the stones, the broken pitcher, and the frightened servant. Of a boy who had surrendered his own coins without hesitation and then returned to his friends as though the incident were hardly worth remembering. She thought, too, of the ridiculous argument about climbing the wall.

"He is young," she began.

"So you have all repeatedly informed me." Vaelith sighed.

"And I do not believe he understands what is being discussed." Kassara looked around as she said it. 

"He does not," Vaelith confirmed.

Kassara frowned. "Does that not trouble you?"

Her grandmother regarded her carefully. "It is not unusual for arrangements of this nature to be considered before the parties are old enough to fulfill them."

"That does not mean he will be pleased when he discovers it." Kassara argued. 

"No," Vaelith agreed. "It does not."

Kassara hadn't expected such a simple acknowledgment. She looked toward the fire, considering her next words. "He seems to have good friends. He laughs easily. And I think he has a kind heart."

Vaelith's expression became thoughtful. "You have spoken with him?"

"No."

"Then how have you reached these conclusions?"

Kassara hesitated. Beside her, Gabryella suddenly became very interested in the pattern woven into the tablecloth. "We saw him in the courtyard," Kassara admitted.

Vaelith looked from one girl to the other. "Of course you did." Azharan covered his smile with one hand.

Kassara explained what they had witnessed, keeping her account brief. She described the servant, the broken pitcher, and the prince's intervention. She mentioned his willingness to pay for the damage himself, though she omitted the more ridiculous details of his activities with Tom and the third boy.

When she finished, Vaelith remained silent for several moments. "A generous gesture," she said at last.

"Yes." Kassara said hesitantly, knowing her grandmother had more to say. 

"Though generosity without judgment can become an expensive habit."

Kassara nearly laughed. She had expected precisely that response. "He seemed to understand what he was doing."

"Then perhaps there is some promise in him." Vaelith told her. Damarion smiled faintly.

Kassara wasn’t expecting that. "I should think there is."

Vaelith settled back in her chair. "Then I will ask you plainly, Kassara. Do you object to the proposed marriage?"

It was a simple question. Far simpler than the answer deserved. Kassara thought of Ashkarr, of the people she would one day be expected to govern, and of the countless decisions her grandmother had spent years preparing her to make.

She thought of Damarion, whose place in her future had long been familiar and reassuring. And she thought of Cedoric. A boy who had no idea that somewhere within his father's palace, strangers were discussing the possibility of taking him across the sea.

She did not love him. She did not know him. She could not even say whether she would particularly like him once they met. But she had seen enough to believe that he might grow into someone worth knowing. Someone who could learn the responsibilities of Ashkarr without forgetting the kindness he had shown in that courtyard.

Kassara raised her eyes to her grandmother. "He will do." Gabryella made a small, delighted sound. Kassara ignored her.

Vaelith studied her granddaughter for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, she smiled. "Very well."

She turned toward Azharan. "Have our advisers prepare the terms. I want the marriage provisions reviewed separately from the trade agreement, and I will not have either kingdom treating one as an excuse to disregard the other."

Azharan inclined his head. "And the Korvethians?"

"We shall inform them that House Ashkarr is prepared to continue negotiations."

"Not accept?" Gabryella asked.

Vaelith gave her a look. "Princess, I have not spent the better part of my life negotiating trade agreements merely to surrender our position because my granddaughter finds a boy tolerable." Azharan laughed again.

Kassara felt her cheeks warm. "I said he would do, Grandmother. I did not declare undying devotion."

"An important distinction." Damarion's smile widened. Gabryella was openly laughing now.

For a fleeting moment, the room felt less like a council chamber and more like home. Kassara watched her grandmother gather the papers once more, issuing instructions to Azharan and Damarion with her usual brisk efficiency. The negotiations would continue tomorrow. There would be more arguments, more conditions, and undoubtedly more opportunities for King Malrik to take offense. Nothing had been signed. No promises had yet become binding. And somewhere beyond the windows, Prince Cedoric was likely finishing his supper, thinking of his friends and whatever adventures the following day might bring.

He did not know her name. He did not know that his future had been discussed. He certainly did not know that a girl with an unruly mass of red curls had watched him from a courtyard archway and found him acceptable. Kassara wondered whether he would hate her when he learned. The thought troubled her more than she cared to admit. Outside, the last of the sunlight faded from the palace walls. Tomorrow, the negotiations would begin again. Tonight, at least, she was still simply Kassara. And the boy was still simply Cedoric. Neither of them yet understood how much their lives might change.