“A witch.” The advisor’s tone made it sound like a diagnosis. “In our sacred spaces.”
“Aweatherwitch,” Adele said. “I have specific expertise that may be relevant to your current challenges. But if you’d prefer not to have my assistance, I could leave.”
The advisor’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Trevare jumped into the silence. “We appreciate any expertise offered. The health of our young ones is paramount.”
“Of course,” the advisor said, though her expressionsuggested otherwise. “Though one wonders why Emberforge takes such interest in Goldwing’s internal affairs.”
“Suffering children aren’t an internal affair.” I kept my tone diplomatic. “They’re a concern for all dragon courts.”
“We have reason to believe Silvervale could becausingthis situation.” The advisor on Trevare’s right leaned forward.
“What evidence would you like to present?” I asked, not willing to allow them to accuse Silvervale without facts.
The advisor looked down at his plate. “Oh, well…”
“Their children are also suffering. I have a hard time believing they’d do anything to harm their own young,” I said.
Color rose in the advisor’s face. “It was merely a thought.”
Trevare grunted. “One we’re not strongly entertaining.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” The advisor looked like he’d like to slide under the table now.
We started serving ourselves and eating.
“The fact that Silvervale’s young are also suffering suggests a common cause,” Adele said. “Environmental or atmospheric, given the geographic proximity and similar symptoms.”
“And you believe you can determine this cause?” The first advisor still sounded skeptical.
“I’m going to try.”
“We’ve had our own healers examine the children,” another advisor chimed in from our right. “They’ve found nothing wrong.”
“Then perhaps a different perspective will help,” Adele said.
The advisor huffed. “Or perhaps this is simply a naturalphase that will pass on its own, and we’re creating drama where none exists.”
“Sneezing every few minutes isn’t a natural phase,” Adele said. She took a bite of a vegetable and chewed before swallowing. “It’s a symptom.”
“Of what?” The advisor spread his hands. “You admit you don’t know.”
“Not yet. That’s why we’re here to investigate.”
“To poke around our homes, you mean.”
“That’s not—” Adele said, but I placed a hand on her arm.
“We’re here as allies,” I said. “Not judges or critics. Allies offering help because children are suffering. Perhaps we could discuss this with less hostility.”
Silence fell across the table. Trevare looked grateful, the advisors’ faces held varying degrees of resentment, and I was already exhausted.
This was the part of kingship I hated. The endless political dance, the carefully measured words, the constant balancing of egos and territories. It was necessary, but fates, it was draining.
Except when I glanced at Adele and found her watching me with admiration in her eyes. Some of that exhaustion faded.
That was impressive,she said.
Welcome to inter-court politics.
