Eliam stood slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Say one more word and hospitality won't save you."
Briar felt the warmth in her chest pulling frantically between them, confused and distressed by the conflict. She opened her mouth to speak, to stop this before it escalated further, but Sian beat her to it.
"This isn't helping," Sian said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Fighting about who's wronged her more doesn't solve the problem of Malus."
"She's right," Thaine said quietly. "We need to focus on the actual issue."
Arion and Eliam continued to stare at each other across the table, neither willing to back down. Briar could see the argument wasn't really about her, or not just about her. It was about something else, something in how the warmth responded to both of them.
"Eliam," Briar said quietly, squeezing his hand. “Sit, please.”
For a moment she thought he might refuse, might let his rage carry him into something he'd regret. Then his jaw clenched and he sank back into his chair, though his posture remained rigid, ready to lash out if the occasion called for it.
Arion followed suit, but his expression stayed hard.
"The bargain transferred once already," Thaine observed quietly. "When the title changed hands. Could it transfer again?"
"To who?" Karse asked. "His majesty there doesn't have the title anymore."
"Not officially," Thaine agreed. "But I've seen the forest respond to him for centuries. Titles are political constructs. The forest itself might see things differently."
Eliam shook his head. "The forest answers to Malus now. It's letting him rule, letting him command its full power. That's answer enough."
"Is it?" Thaine pressed. "The forest took years to fully accept you after you took the throne. What if it simply hasn't decided yet?"
"That's speculation," Eliam said flatly.
"Most solutions to impossible problems start as speculation," Karse said from the wall.
Eliam's jaw worked, his hand still gripping Briar's. She could feel him thinking, working through possibilities with that sharp mind that had ruled a court for centuries.
"A new bargain could work," he said finally, reluctantly. "Worded to acknowledge the existing one but allowing the forest to choose who holds it. If the forest recognizes me despite the political situation, the bargain would transfer back. If it doesn't..." He stopped, his expression darkening.
"If it doesn't?" Briar prompted.
"Then the existing bargain would fight the attempt," Eliam said, his voice carefully controlled. "It would interpret a new bargain as an attack, a violation. The marks would defend themselves."
"How badly would it hurt her?" Arion asked, voicing what everyone was thinking.
Eliam's hand tightened on hers. "I felt it when the bargain first transferred to Malus. The marks changing, reshaping themselves. The pain was..." He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Considerable. And that was the bargain accepting a legitimate transfer. Forcing it against its nature would be worse."
"How much worse?" Briar needed to know.
His eyes found hers, and she saw the war happening behind them. The desire to protect her from pain fighting against the knowledge that she deserved the truth.
"The marks would constrict," he said finally. "They'd try to enforce the existing bargain, to punish what they see as rebellion. It would feel like drowning, like being crushed."
The room had gone silent, everyone processing what that meant.
"But if it works?" Briar pressed. "If the forest chooses you?"
"Then the marks would change again," Eliam said. "They'd recognize me as the rightful holder of the bargain.”
Briar thought about Malus's voice at the border, the way he'd promised to call to her through the marks, to make her feel him no matter where she ran. She thought about belonging to him for the rest of her life, about what he would do with that power, with that kind of access.
"I want to try," she said.
"Briar, you’re still recovering," Sian protested.
