Claire, tone coated in exasperation, mutters, “Can you try to be polite for thirty seconds?”
Reyna blinks at Claire, looking genuinely confused. “But why would we be thankful for being invited to shifter land? I still maintain we should’ve made them come to us. Those two witches look fine, and the Alpha and Beta are keeping their expressions blank, but every other wolf we’ve passed looked like they wanted to either bite us or burn us at the stake.”
Interesting. I haven’t asked anyone in the palace what the popular opinion is among shifters regarding allying with witches, whom they historically avoid, but if it’s more negative than positive, that means there will need to be some serious PR work to avoid protests and riots.
Odelia goes on as if Reyna hadn’t spoken, directing her words to me. “I assume you were the one who drew up the proposal brought to us? I sensed strong magic from the writing itself.”
I straighten my back.Time to stand behind my politics. With a nod, I say, “I was. The Beta, Wyatt, was of great help.”
Wyatthasbeen surprisingly helpful throughout our project. His insight has been nothing short of integral, and his perspective and knowledge of mythic history combined with my perspective and knowledge of human history is what made our proposal so solid and worthy of the witches’ attention.
Odelia nods. “Well, then, why don’t we get to it? Your proposal outlined a potential alliance and treaty that would benefit both sides greatly. I’m eager to discuss.”
“Please, follow us,” Camden responds.
Greta steps out of a corridor where she must’ve been waiting, and says, “I can take the young Princess back to her chambers.”
I look down at Leisel to gauge her reaction. The conversations with the witches will probably be graphic since we’ll need to discuss the war with vampires that is set to break out at any moment, and I don’t want to draw her into the darker part of the world we live in any more than I already have.
“I have to go do my morning lessons,” she tells me. “Will you read to me before bed tonight?”
I lean down to kiss the crown of her head, telling her, “Of course, sweet girl. Go on, now, and try not to give your tutor too much trouble.” Apparently, my little sister has a tendency to correct the castle tutors and get into arguments with them over particular things—a combative trait she probably got from me.
I watch as Greta whisks Leisel away, then join Camden as he leads the witches up the staircase toward the room where we’ll be holding official negotiations. The space is situated in a wing of the castle I haven’t explored yet, with dark wooden walls and polished stone flooring. A rectangular table is set up in the center of the room, large enough to seat ten people, with ten accompanying cushioned chairs. On the table is a tray with a water jug and several crystal glasses, along with a stack of papers—the official treaty I hope to get signed today.
Camden takes a seat at the head of the table, I stand behind my chair to his right, and Wyatt sits to his left. Odelia seats herself at the other end of the table, with Claire on her left and Reyna slouching in the seat to her right. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that Reyna is the least excited about their visit here, but it seems that Odelia has the final say, so she’s the person I’ll have to appeal to most.
I pick up the treaty with all the terms and amendments outlined from the center of the table and toss two copies in front of Camdenand Wyatt. I then walk over to the other end of the table, setting copies in front of Odelia, Reyna, and Claire.
I return to my seat, smooth down my blouse, and say, “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Chapter Forty-One
Atense silence stretches out as everyone takes in the treaty I’ve laid out in front of them. Camden, Wyatt, and I have all read it, but we all read it over again in silence. The witches seem engrossed in the words, leaning over the pages and whispering amongst each other periodically.
I read and reread the finely scripted words, searching for any errors there might be even though I’ve spent the last week pouring over these contents. I wasn’t the person to physically write out the pages that are being read now; Wyatt took our final draft to the royal scribe, Oscar—the same shifter who delivered an invitation for dinner to me and Leisel back in Aesara—who then made several copies. The scribe’s writing is much more elegant than mine, which is a plus, but it also makes me nervous that some final errors and edits may have been made while I wasn’t overseeing.
I don’t think people in this castle would undermine me, but then again, the only people in this castle I truly know are Wyatt, Camden, Leisel, Greta, and Cara. That makes me nervous. In fact, everything about this situation makes me nervous, even though I try not to showit; I’ve never been in a position of power like this before, with so many fates and lives depending on my actions.
I have no training in diplomacy, no formal education, really—I’m trying to learn as I go, which is intimidating. The many,manyhistory books and textbooks I’ve read over the years are my only guide, but even so, that makes me feel ridiculously under qualified for the position I’ve put myself in. The fact that shifters don’t deal with foreign relations outside of other shifter factions is even more frightening because I understand I’m the first of my kind, and any mistake I might make could be the end of any attempts at diplomacy and interspecies integration. The work I’m doing isintegralfor the future; I can’t afford to screw it up.
After twenty minutes, Odelia clears her throat. She glances at Camden, then Wyatt, before settling her gaze on me. “I’m assuming this is your work?”
I motion at Wyatt with a hand. “I took advice, but yes, I did most of the drafting.”
“Obviously,” Reyna says. “Only a witch would be this decent to other witches. If the Beta here had done this on his own, I’m willing to bet there would be a quarter of the provisions and offers for witches and none for humans.”
“If I’d been doing this on my own,” Wyatt says with a toothy smile, “I wouldn’t have gotten past the first draft. I certainly wouldn’t have received authorization to parlay with you. Having a witch in the palace has lent us a great deal of perspective, which is why we’ve finally reached out to you.”
I cast Wyatt a look of surprise. I knew Camden was behind this treaty being my triumph, but also hearing Wyatt admit so frankly that without me, my work, and my perspective we wouldn’t be here is warming. We’ve been growing closer, so I knew wewere on better terms than when I first arrived, but I didn’t expect him to acknowledge my part in this so wholly—wolves are proud creatures by nature, so I assumed he’d want to take as much credit for himself as possible.
“After decades of hunting our kind for sport, yes, you’ve decided to try for an alliance,” Claire remarks in the most pleasant yet icily tipped tone. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the dark faye are in similar negotiations with the vampires regarding their own alliance, one that would put you at a massive disadvantage when they formally declare war.”
I’m startled by the news that the faye have already started talks with the vampires—I hadn’t heard anything of the sort. I look to Camden, trying to gauge his reaction, only to find that he appears completely unsurprised. This isn’t new information to him. The fact that he withheld it from me sends a foreign pang of pain through my chest. I frown, annoyed at my own reaction; he had no reason or even means to tell me, as we haven’t seen each other or spoken in the last week. Besides, this is a war-related issue, and outside of the diplomacy I’m heading, war is his department, not mine.
And yet, the knowledge that he didn’t tell me something that pertains to me and my work still hurts, which means our bond is now on steroids. In the past, I would’ve been irritated at a development like this—annoyedathim, not hurtbyhim. That fact alone frustrates me.
As if he can sense my pain, which at this point he very well could, Camden turns to me. “I just received reports this morning, unconfirmed.”
