Page 70 of A Sweet Destruction

We were hesitant to comply, and even Elijah’s company moved slowly.

“I’m glad to see you are confident that we will leave these negotiations celebrating,” Soren began after everyone was seated, and I forced my lips together to hide a smile at the royal haughtiness that slipped into his voice. Ford’s thigh pressed against mine under the table, noticing the same, and it was a miracle I didn’t jump right out of my skin.

“Considering not that long ago we thought an attack on our camp was imminent—more so than the existing dramatics.”

My chest clenched, but Soren knew was he was doing. Evidenced by Caspian’s wide, bright smile. “Ah, yes. You’ll excuse that. But I fear it was necessary, in a way.” Caspian leaned back, hooking his elbow around the back of his chair and swirling his glass of wine. “This is the first bit of progress we’ve made with you lot. You’ve inspired hope.” He popped the p on the last word, a sarcastic choice that was not lost on anyone at the table.

Including Elijah, who said Caspian’s name in a low sound of warning.

Only fueling my curiosity further, Caspian straightened, taking heed, before he continued. “Your actions have not sowed confidence over the years. Invading our world and all that.”

There was a pregnant pause in the room. Yes, technically, we had been the ones to cross the Bridge first.

But Muli wasn’t some pacifist world brutalized by our force. The first scouts we’d sent across had come back through the Bridge in pieces, their bodies slumping onto the floor before their head rolled right past it.

The only person who had come back safe was Freya.

Once she had, and the priestesses confirmed it was that odd tattoo she’d borne since birth that helped her do it, our next journey across had been a large group, well-armed to deal with what might be waiting for them on the other side.

That had been bloody, and for many trips after, the skirmishes had painted the Bridge crimson.

My mouth opened, then closed, not wanting to interfere, then opened back up again when Bellamy gave me a subtle nod from across the table.

I was speaking before I could even form a coherent thought. “We are here because we are clearly operating under two different histories. If Bellamy hadn’t discovered your family’s letters,” I said, focusing myself on Caspian so I didn’t get distracted. I trusted Ford would fill in those gaps for me. “We would not have known you’d been brokering for peace.”

Caspian’s lower lip turned down, an impressed little smirk that I didn’t quite appreciate.

“We cannot negotiate properly if we do not understand your motivations, nor your history,” Bellamy tacked on. “Before we start any formal discussions, I think it best to all agree that our ultimate goal is an end to this war—”

“Not our trade, I hope,” Caspian cut in with pointed look at the bracelets stacked on my wrist, half of which were embedded with Muli rubies. He looked like he wanted to say more, but something stopped him, whether that be the displeased growl that left Soren’s throat or something else.

“And begin a new relationship,” Bellamy continued as if she’d never been interrupted. “Trade is a priority, yes. Education, as well. We have much to learn from you, and dare I say, you from us.”

Though it was a distant consideration, one that plagued my own mind constantly. We needed to know why people on Muli were born with their Marks, while we had to undergo a painful procedure at the hands of a priestess to discover ours.

“Very well,” Caspian said after a moment. He turned to Elijah with a sly grin. “You were right, I’m afraid. I expected there to be blood spilled already.”

“If you count Bellamy’s leg, we’ve already started,” Ford said, a dry quip under his breath, but in the silence of the room, it was unavoidable.

Though I felt Freya tensing on my other side, I hoped that—

Caspian’s booming laughter shook the painted glass adorning the windows. “Ah, see!” His smile was thick with glee. “Humor is the universal language.” Then, to me, “I understand you a little better now, serpenia.”

“Why don’t we focus on something a little more helpful, Caspian,” Elijah said, the lazy quality to his voice a little tenser than normal.

“Perhaps introductions?” Bellamy said, nodding to the mysterious older woman. Though I really should know who she was, especially if she was the queen herself, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to care.

Not when the endearment Caspian had used, a variation of the word for snake in the old language, was clanging through my head like a rang bell.

“Right! Silly me.” I was starting to understand Caspian now. His youth was still very present, preventing him from fully understanding the consequences of his actions. His flowery speeches were certainly impressive and it was clear he was intelligent, but he didn’t strike me as someone who had much capacity for self-preservation.

A poor quality to have in a leader. That was what Elijah was for, it seemed.

“This is my dear aunt, Cornelia,” Caspian said, gesturing to his right.

Cornelia smiled softly, nodding once. “His mother’s sister.” Ah, so the near-queen. She seemed to wear her status well, though sometimes resentment was well-masked.

“And you’ve met Elijah,” Caspian said, waiving his hand dismissively. “And even then, he needs no introduction.”