“You asked to see me?” Ellina prompted.
“Yes.” Farah turned her head. “Youvan. That is all for now. You are dismissed.”
The conjuror did not argue. His face was blank as he swept by, his shadow sticking to the walls behind him. He did not spare the sisters another glance.
Farah motioned Ellina into the parlor. “I have a task for you.” She began rummaging through a wooden cabinet, opening and closing the little drawers at random. “It seems that your human is more resourceful than previously thought.”
This old argument. “He is not mine.”
“You know what I mean.”
Farah pulled a blank piece of parchment from one of the drawers, along with an ink bottle and quill. “It will come as no surprise to you that the human has involved himself with the resistance. We always expected humans to rise against us, andthathuman…” She trailed off as if to saywell, you know he was always trouble.“What is surprising is that the elves have named him their commander.”
Ellina blinked. “The resistance has named Venick their commander?”
“Yes.”
“That is—are you certain?”
“My source is good.”
Ellina’s blood seemed to slow. She felt oddly breathless. Dourin had said nothing of this in his messages. Though, perhaps she should not be so surprised. Ellina knew how Venick could be, had seen his effect on others. Elves tried to resist his charm, only to succumb to the pull of it, like flowers towards the sun. Venick had a way of breaking down barriers, not all at once but slowly, brick by brick, as he had with Kaji and the palace servants. With Dourin.
With her.
Farah set her supplies onto a nearby pedestal table, the ink and parchment both. “I have given your suggestion more thought, and I believe that you are right. I cannot expect to conquer the mainlands if the humans retain any advantage over me, and right now they do have an advantage: their battleships.” Farah tapped the paper. “If the humans have not yet realized this advantage, they will soon enough. And then what will they do?”
There was only one answer. “They will take to the sea.”
“Indeed. But we are not ready to face a seafaring attack. And so, your task: divert their attention. I do not want your human—”
“He isnot mine.”
“—getting any ideas about ambushing us here. I want you to send him a letter. You will propose a treaty. Peace between our countries.”
Ellina huffed a laugh. “You must be joking.”
“No.”
“He is not a fool,” Ellina said, though this brought a jolt of pain. How many times had she called Venick exactly that? “He will never believe such a letter.”
“You have influenced him well before.”
“That was different. He does not trust you. He certainly does not trust me. He will see through the lie.” Just as he had seen through all of Ellina's lies. All but the last.
Farah’s tone was icy. “Are you refusing to do it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She pulled out the chair, motioning for Ellina to sit. Farah dictated while Ellina scribbled. When the letter was finished, Ellina blew lightly on the ink until dry, then rolled the parchment tightly and sealed the roll with wax.
It stung a little, handing that message to Farah. Knowing that Venick would read it and hate Ellina even more than he already did. Knowing—hoping, dreading—that he might be prompted to write back.
“I noticed you have befriended one of the palace servants,” Farah said. “A fledgling named Livila?”
Ellina stiffened. “I would hardly call us friends. She is my maid.”
