“They will always want to stand for Mhashan,” he mumbled. Fiera ignored him.
“Lord Twintle’s eldest son is Luke,” Zira whispered in Vi’s ear. “He’s been vying to get him out of the prison for weeks.”
“Speaking of that normalcy, Lord Twintle, how is trade? And fishing?” Fiera asked.
“Fishing is better now that we aren’t dodging Imperial vessels.”
“And Oparium?”
“We’re still talking with the dock master there regarding getting into port.”
Vi stared at the notes, letters, ledgers, and maps spread on the table before her. She had heard of council meetings like this from her parents—even fantasized about one day being a part of them. Now that she was here, and with the knowledge she held, it was proving difficult to remain silent.
“Until trade improves,” Vi began, and all eyes immediately swung to her. More than one councilmember looked surprised by her boldness. “Might I suggest we import additional rations from the East? I believe they are going to have a rather impressive year for grain; they might be able to spare more than they’re letting on, in an effort to conserve in case of a poor harvest next year. But I’m confident the Mother will bless their fields again.”
“And just who are you again?” Lord Twintle asked dully.
“My name is Yullia.”
“I didn’t ask for your name,” he drawled. “Let me put it more simply for you: why should we care about your thoughts? Especially since they are the thoughts of a criminal.”
Vi merely shrugged. “Care or don’t. I merely offer my wisdom.”
“And your wisdom is welcome,” Fiera insisted with a glance to Twintle. “Yullia is gifted with the goddess’s sight. Perhaps even more so than I.” There were several skeptical glances at that statement. “I am certain when she gives us her thoughts, they are worth listening to. I’ll speak with the Emperor regarding reaching out to the Lady of the East for additional supplies.”
“Perhaps in that same missive he can introduce me to her,” Ophain suggested from Fiera’s right. “As I might need to deal with her directly in the coming years.”
“I’ll bring it up.” Fiera nodded to her brother.
Vi studied Ophain as he leaned forward, making a few notes in his personal ledger. He seemed to be taking the situation with surprising grace. Then again, he was heir to the last king of the West and had somehow escaped being murdered following the end of the war. That would be enough to make anyone grateful.
“If we are thinking of asking the East for further assistance, we should check the current storerooms to ensure our counts are accurate,” Denja, a councilor for commerce mused. She had a thick accent—one Vi couldn’t quite place. It didn’t sound entirely Western to her ears. “I have been sending messengers regularly, but I worry the Imperial soldiers have been dipping in without approval.”
“Imperial soldiers would never,” Zerian insisted.
“Then perhaps they haven’t been taking careful notes.” Denja smiled thinly.
“We shall go together,” Fiera suggested.
“Do you think that’s wise?” her brother asked.
“I’ve been shut up in this castle for too long.” Fiera sighed and collected her papers. “The engagement has been announced and the people should know I’m not being held hostage until my wedding day. Besides, I’ll have my knights with me.”
Her gaze lifted to Zira and Vi. They both gave a nod to the princess.
“Knights,” Twintle murmured. “But they’re not anymore, are they?”
“I’ve yet to decide what the fate of the Knights of Jadar will be,” Fiera said. She quickly returned the conversation to its previous topic, looking to Denja. “Do you have time now?”
“Of course, your highness.” When the councilor bowed her head, the beads attached to the ornate headscarf she wore clanked softly.
“Excellent. I leave the other matters in Ophain’s capable hands.” Fiera started around the table. Denja, Vi, and Zira following behind.
“Where are you from, Yullia?” Denja asked as they walked. “You speak Southern Common and Mhashanese quite well.”
“I’ve been gifted with languages,” Vi said honestly. When Denja continued to stare expectantly at her, Vi knew she hadn’t dodged the initial question. “I’ve traveled all over. I’ve never quite had a home and couldn’t tell you where I was born or who my parents were.” Vi kept Taavin’s words in mind as she danced around the question; telling people who she was could have unintended consequences.
“How heartbreaking, an orphan alone in the world.” Denja didn’t sound for a moment like she was genuinely sympathetic. “And now you stand in direct service to one of the most powerful people on this continent. That’s extraordinarily lucky.”
