Page 5 of Given to the Black King

Callas lowers his voice. “The council granted me discretion if the king requires a personal guarantee.”

A personal guarantee.

I look at him.

He looks at the horns.

There it is.

Not an accusation I can use. Not yet. But enough.

“They sent an envoy,” I say. “Not a bride.”

“They sent someone empowered to secure peace.”

“They sent me after three men found reasons not to come.”

Callas flinches.

The first man had developed pains in his chest. The second discovered an aunt near death. The third disappeared before dawn with two horses and most of the travel silver.

Then the council chose me. No husband. No children. No powerful family to complain if I did not come home.

Perr clears his throat behind us. “My lady, the gift list.” His voice cracks on the last word.

I turn in the saddle. He is twenty-two, perhaps twenty-three, with ink on two fingers and fear all over his face.

“Still eight bolts of river silk?” I ask.

“Yes.” He fumbles with the case buckle. “And the carved table, the glass, the⁠—”

“Perr.”

He stops.

“Breathe.”

He does, badly.

“They shouldn’t have sent you,” he says. “I know I’m not supposed to say that.”

“No. You aren’t.”

His face falls.

“But you’re right.”

He blinks at me.

“Now check the seals again. If the Black King kills us, I don’t want the inventory questioned afterward.”

A shocked laugh escapes him. Callas gives me a look.

Perr’s breathing evens.

The gate opens.

Nobody comes out to greet us.