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Are you sure about that? You could live your whole life not knowing and be just fine without it. It’s not⁠—

Faldir broke the seal and skimmed the page before clearing his throat. “Thirty-four, Nay. Seventeen, Yea.”

Seventeen. There were seventeen Council members who would rather she was dead than help the Westrealm without payment.

Probably a good thing Fern wasn’t around to hear that.

No shite.

Back in her wretched throne in the Hollow, Lunara fought the urge to look around.

To try and pinpoint the Council members who voted to cull her after mere days in their ranks. The ones who’d probably voted against doing the same to Malachyr, even though he’d been accused of fucking cold-blooded murder. More than once.

“Again, our business will be short,” Cordelia said. “There is much to do to ready the forces for the Westrealm. Go ahead.”

Those small doors opened again and⁠—

“Valandyrian aht Bordoroth, Blessed of Kohamaia, Second Imperial Son of Alwyn and Fionerys.”

Vann ambled in, his slow, regal steps covering the worst of his limp, no entourage to accompany him like his uncle and cousin the day before. He was almost ghostly in his ivory robes, the silver embroidery an exact match for his long hair, all blending together with his impossibly pale skin. Even from her perch, the only color he boasted was in his mismatched eyes—one emerald, one wholly black.

Life and death. Beginning and end.

“Illustrious Council. Elders.” He dipped his chin in various directions, landing on her and Araxis last. “Brother. Sister. Greetings from Kohamaia and the Eternal Ones.”

The tight mask on his usually kind face concerned her, something off in his voice for the barest second before it leveled out to neutral. Then again, Lunara hadn’t seen him since the day she freed Brand from Night. All manner of things might’ve happened since that she was unaware of.

It could also be that he’s in pain.

Which she understood far more than she wanted to.

“Hello, Vann. It’s lovely to see you.” Lunara leaned forward. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

His brows shot up and he darted a glance at Araxis. “It was you who summoned me, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You are not,” Araxis said. He leaned towards her and hissed, “Next time, read the scroll I hand you before the gathering. He’s here to discuss outfitting our armies.”

Lunara was stuck somewhere between laughing and punching him in the face.

She chose to address Vann again, instead. “Forgive me, I slept poorly and it slipped my mind already. We wish to discuss the price of cloth. However, I have it on very good authority that you charge exorbitant fees. Shall we negotiate?”

“Brand got to you, did he?” One side of his mouth quirked up, more like himself. “Like I told him, I was a grudging messenger, and the flexibility the Demons require does not come easy. Or cheap.”

Hmm.

“What’s your stance on charity for the greater good?”

His head tilted, that one, obsidian eye seeming to see right through her. “Depends, but I would say I generally support such things. Why do you ask?”

There you go. Show Araxis and his sour arse exactly how keen your mind can be.

“How would you and your renowned queens feel about fitting our armies for free?”

His gaze narrowed. “And your part in this charitable effort?”

“We’ve agreed to assist the Wolflords without seeking payment. Should you be of the same mind, your contribution to us would actually be a contribution to them. As I was just saying yesterday, the atrocities occurring in the Westrealm are a Bordorothian concern. A world matter. We have a duty to see them through their trials, both because it’s the right thing to do and to protect the rest of the realms from falling victim to the same.”

Vann nodded, apparently considering it. “I’ll need a few days, and notes from someone who knows what in the blimmin’ stars they’re talking about when it comes to fabrics. Say…by the end of today? I would also reserve the right to beg the Evesong’s assistance with a single matter in the future, within fair reason and without being expected to offer recompense. Give me that, and it will be done.”