“Darian.” Varyth’s interjection could have flash-frozen lava. “You said Nyxaria reached out. Start talking before I decide this interruption wasn’t worth keeping you alive.”
“Right.” Darian’s smirk faded. “They said they want to negotiate a truce. Peace.”
Varyth’s entire body tensed.
“They wantpeace?” he repeated, the doubt unmistakable.
“Theysaidthey do,” Fenric replied, his tone clipped. “Though I doubt it’s anything more than a ploy. To do with—” He gestured vaguely in my direction.
Varyth nodded, running a hand through his hair. “The Shadow Drask probably wants to see if he can rattle us into giving something away.” The words dripped with loathing, venom curling in every syllable.
I blinked, my mind catching on the title.
I watched Darian and Fenric, searching for some kind of explanation in their reactions. Darian, for once, wasn’t smiling. His face was blank, but the tension in his posture betrayed him. Fenric gave nothing away, his focus solely on Varyth.
No one said a damn thing.
But it was still there. The weight of words, old and deeply carved into the foundation of whatever history lay betweenVaryth and Nyxaria’s High Lord. I wasn’t naive.I knew war bred hatred, dug grudges as deep as trenches.
I crossed my arms, glancing between each of them. “Shadow Drask? What is that?”
Darianvisibly winced.Fenric stared at the ground like it might offer the answer.
Varyth merelywaved me off. “Not a story worth telling.”
Which only confirmed that itabsolutely was.
But I let it drop. For now. Because as much as I wanted to know, the way Varyth’s fingers curled into his palm told me I wouldn’t be getting answers today.
Fenric interrupted my thoughts. “Regardless of the reason behind their sudden change in attitude,” he said, “the fact remains. Nyxaria has requested a meeting.”
Varyth dragged a hand down his face, the loathing in his features wiped away.
“You should meet with him.” The words spilled out before I could think better of it.
Varyth took a single step towards me. “What?”
I swallowed, but the damage was already done.
So, like an idiot, I kept talking. “It gives you the opportunity to find out what he knows.” My voice didn’t shake. Only because I didn’t let it. “And to show him you aren’t afraid. That the attacks haven’t affected the court.”
Varyth’s expression darkened, but I could see he was considering it, rolling my words around in his mind.
“What are their terms?” Varyth turned to Darian.
“They want a meeting. On neutral ground. Just you and their High Lord.”
“Absolutely not. It’s clearly a trap.”
Fenric didn’t hesitate. “We thought you might say that.” His fingers tapped on his bicep. “Which is why the counteroffer isalready in motion. A meeting with a full delegation from both courts, in a location of our choosing.”
“And what location did you have in mind?”
“There’s a secure tower right on the border, one of the old watchtowers. Only one entrance and exit, close enough to a border camp should we need reinforcements.”
As the conversation moved forward, a different feeling settled over me. One ofdisplacement.This was areal discussion. A political manoeuvre with actual consequences, and I had spoken without thinking, inserting myself into matters far more complex than I had any business meddling in. I cursed myself for it.
“You’ll be there, Isara.” Varyth pulled my attention back to him.
