No problem, right?
We reached the main gate of the city center, and I set my shoulders, focusing on my role as the wooden slabs cranked open. With every pull on that gate, more and more people appeared, lining the street ahead like they did in Harthon’s city center.
Nerves twisted my belly.You are themagvis. She who summons sea birds, apparently. These people cow to you.
The doors lurched to a stop, quiet following in their wake. I shifted uncomfortably in my saddle, because that quiet—it was deafening. I didn’t expect trumpets, but at the very least murmurs of conversation. Signs of life. Yet a coin could drop yards ahead, and I would hear it flutter against the packed dirt.
You’re themagvis.You like unsettling quiet.
Most likely.
Led by a stone-faced Torr, we loped down the street. Stefano, Joris, and Jac were at our backs, Torr’s soldiers behind them. Without shackles binding his hands, Jac presented just as he used to: as one of Harthon’s most trusted soldiers, aged with wisdom and thick with strength. I wondered if the weight of every person’s eyes sat on his chest like it did on mine.
I perused the townspeople as we paraded before them, and what I saw only unsettled me further. It wasn’t how they all watched Harthon. That was normal.
It was the open disdain smeared in their frowns and sneers, the lack of fearful respect in their eyes.
As Harthon had said some time ago, fear was a valuable weapon. It seemed we may be without it here.
Harthon must have noticed, but he didn’t react, so neither did I. To react would give them power. So my face remained impassive, and I managed to keep it that way as we trekked past the thatched huts and stone buildings tightly packed along the road. We marinated in more of that silence as we waited for the Citadel’s gates to open, welcoming us into the heart of Aric’s Territory.
Plain stone walls and towers rose high above, a few carts nestled here and there, men and women bustling around in plainclothes or soldiers’ uniforms as they worked. Like Harthon, Aric hadn’t bothered to decorate with flags, paintings, or flashy ornaments.
He waited for us inside, standing apart from his men in the same black, scale-like leather armor as Torr. His gray-streaked hair bore no crown, and the jagged scar running across his golden-brown skin from eye to mouth cut through the stubble shadowing his jaw. He was a far cry from the clean-shaven, more diplomatic appearance he’d had when we first secured our alliance. Standing before us, a cocky tilt to his posture, muscular physique relaxed in the comfort of his own home, he was more intimidating than I remembered.
I reminded myself I was with Harthon, who could intimidate the most ferocious of men.
“You’re early,” Aric said.
“You sound like your second-in-command,” Harthon replied.
Lovely. Beginning our diplomatic visit with an insult.
Torr spun like an attack dog, waiting for Aric’s signal, but the Princeps only smirked. “We don’t like surprises.”
“If I planned to surprise you, it would be more dramatic than this.”
I think the word Harthon meant to use was “violent,” not “dramatic.”
Aric humphed, the sound almost humored, and waved us toward the stables. When we dismounted, he made a point of approaching me first. With a glint in his eye, he extended a hand. Propriety had me taking it.
His hold surprisingly gentle, he drawled, “Etarla, what a pleasure to see you again.” He unhurriedly kissed the back of my hand, lips lingering longer than proper.
“Thank you for welcoming us,” I replied.
Still grasping my hand, he smoothly said, “Youare welcome here at any time.”
He’d shamelessly flirted with me at our last meeting. Apparently, that hadn’t been a one-time occurrence. I hardly knew what to do with it, but at the very least, I recognized his interest as an advantage—especially if Harthon wanted to start our visit with insults.
Aric leisurely dragged his fingers away and glanced at Harthon. “Come inside for a meal and drink. Torr will show your men their rooms.”
Harthon grunted in acknowledgement, his posture painfully rigid.
With the way this was going, it seemedIwould be responsible for ensuring relations between our two Territories remained intact.
In line with that effort, I attempted small talk with the Princeps as Harthon and I followed him through a labyrinth of hallways.
“No welcome party?” I asked.
