“He is my heir.”
“For now,” Vanya demurred. “Take solace in the fact he is worth more alive than dead to whomever has him. He and your lady will be a bargaining chip.”
“That relieves neither of us of our current dilemma.”
“No, but it will not stop me from sending the Legion north nor searching for Soren and Lady Lore. This alliance will not falter.” Vanya meant it, the sureness in his voice as hard as steel.
“Thank you. I think my people and my country will survive because of you. I wish others were as open to giving aid.”
“I wasn’t, at first.”
“No, but you were honorable about what you owed. Soren said you would be.”
“E’ridia hasn’t agreed to an alliance?”
“Not for lack of effort.”
“What about the Tovan Isles?”
“Ashion is landlocked. Daijal holds the western coast, and the Ashionen parliament handled diplomatic duties with that country when necessary. My people don’t have the proper connections nor permission of passage through foreign territory to open diplomatic channels with that nation.”
Vanya looked at Dariush and the intent expression on the ambassador’s face as he listened to only one side of the conversation. “Solaria has an alliance with the Tovan Isles. If Ashion needs access to their representatives through Solaria, I will grant such accommodations. Your ambassador can coordinate with mine for an introduction.”
Caris made a soft, surprised noise while Dariush did his level best not to give away whatever he was feeling in the face of Vanya’s offer.
“Thank you,” Caris said again, relief, or perhaps delayed grief, making her voice waver over the line. “Ashion accepts your generosity.”
“I look forward to our new alliance.”
“As do I.”
They didn’t chat much longer, the bulk of their conversation finished. After he placed the receiver in the cradle, Vanya looked at Dariush, and the ambassador dipped into a deep bow. “My people thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
“Who has custody of Soren’s weapons?” Vanya asked.
“Ah, I would need to check, but I believe the peacekeepers do. They are the ones investigating the crime scene.”
“I want his weapons brought to me.”
Vanya knew how much wardens cared for their weapons, had spent many nights watching Soren tend to them before he could coax the other man into bed. A warden’s life was only as good as their training and ability to defend themselves in the poison fields. He’d hold on to Soren’s poison short sword, his dual pistols, and his dagger until the warden could claim them again.
Because he would.
Dariush inclined his head. “I will retrieve them immediately, Your Imperial Majesty.”
He took his leave, closing the door behind him. Left alone in his office, Vanya gave in to the urge to pray, holding his head in his hands while hunched over his desk. “You said our roads were meant to cross. Tell me they still will, Callisto.”
But in those few moments where it was just Vanya and his heartbeat before duty came knocking again, the Dawn Star did not answer his prayers.
Fourteen
EIMARILLE
Eimarille looked up from the reports strewn across her desk as the door to her office was pushed open without a knock, the hinges squeaking ever so slightly. Terilyn slipped inside, her clothes meant for an airship and not the Daijal court. Her trousers were neatly tailored, the material thicker for higher altitude. The flower embroidery around the collar and cuffs of her blouse were the only bits of brightness on the fabric. Her plain, fur-lined leather flight jacket was slung over one arm, hair braided tightly around her skull like a crown to fit beneath a helmet.
Eimarille glanced at the clock on the wall and the minutes that had ticked away into hours while she’d been working. “Darling, is it time already?”
“Yes. Maksim’s airship departs in an hour.”
