Chapter Nine

The crests of the sea's waves were silver in the moonlight. The noise of the water breaking against the rocks at the base of the cliff was loud against the silence of the night, but Naratha barely noticed it, too consumed with her own thoughts.

She considered herself an adroit negotiator and stateswoman; she'd been trained in those arts since birth. This… situation, though. She wasn't certain she had ever felt so utterly at a loss before.

Her first instinct— to simply kill the human girl— was still strong. But that option had lost much of its appeal when the rumors that Darius had chosen her as his bride had spread through the city faster than a plague outbreak. She pursed her lips. Was it that simple? Was that what the girl wanted? A throne? Or was it as Darius had said— simply a maneuver to protect herself, insurance against her own death? She supposed it was possible, but she was strongly disinclined to give Tanitha the benefit of the doubt. Because if she did, she'd have to accept that her son's actions— his excruciatingly foolish actions— had been his own.

Worse, if she accepted that he truly did have feelings for the girl, she also had to accept that any action she took to protect him from her could mean that ultimately, she would lose him.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Rarely in her life had she felt so hemmed in. Perhaps that was why, when she'd received Alethia's request for a formal meeting, she had chosen this as the setting. Although she wouldn't have admitted it aloud, the city walls that night felt far more like a constriction than a protection.

An awareness of elemental magic tickled the edge of Naratha's senses, and she turned, scanning her surroundings. A moment later, an iridescent blue damselfly, its color vibrant even in the moonlight, flew past her. Naratha stepped to one side to allow Alethia some room beside her on the precipice, and a moment later, the damselfly circled back, then transformed.

"Your Majesty," Alethia said with a bow. She had taken her usual form, that of a striking young woman with wavy dark hair. She'd gone further than most of their kind did in making herself impossible to mistake for human, though; in addition to keeping her graceful translucent wings, Alethia also had a scattering of blue scales along her arms and temples.

"That's impressive range you have," Naratha said with a raised eyebrow. "Everything from an insect to a leviathan."

"Thank you," Alethia said calmly. "I've found that being unobtrusive can be as useful a skill as intimidation, in the right circumstances."

Naratha gave a wistful chuckle. "I'm afraid that I can't speak to that. Unobtrusiveness has never truly been an option for me."

"No, I imagine not," Alethia said, giving a nod of understanding. She stepped up onto the precipice beside Naratha.

Despite fully knowing that Alethia was an adversary right now, Naratha couldn't dredge up any particular feelings of hostility toward her. She'd been dubious of Alethia's merits originally, and rather displeased when Darius had picked her as a prospect, but her assessment had shifted quickly; Alethia was an intelligent and decisive young woman, and despite being of only middling birth, she was magically very strong and had many valuable connections to other powerful demons. Now, Naratha mainly felt regretful at how likely it was that she and her house would have this woman's enmity, regardless of what steps she might take to mitigate the situation.

Alethia was quiet for a moment as she looked over the sea. "I can see Sabria from here," she said, a note of surprise in her voice. She glanced sideways at Naratha. "I imagine that's why you chose this place, though," she said. "A reminder of what we stand to lose if we cannot cooperate?" she asked, tone barbed. "If I do not forgive the humiliation your family has wrought on me?"

"No," Naratha said quietly. "It's a reminder of the bargaining power you currently hold."

Alethia narrowed her eyes for an instant before neutralizing her expression. "Your Majesty?"

Naratha turned her gaze out across the sea. As Alethia had said, the lights of one of Sabria's cities were just barely visible in the darkness.

"I would have liked to believe that the only error Darius committed was sparing that woman's life," Naratha said. "But as it seems that she lured him to her bed some time before the soul-binding occurred, I am forced to abandon that position." She glanced at Alethia, who was likewise looking over the sea, her expression free of any outward clue to her thoughts. "What he did to you is inexcusable," Naratha continued, "and I am certain that rumors of it have already reached Sabria. I'm further certain that their spies are watching Zharen very carefully right now, wondering what cracks might appear in the relationship between our cities because of this."

Finally, she turned to Alethia directly. "We can't afford that," she said. "It could be the beginning of the end. So. Name your price." There was a small flicker of surprise in Alethia's expression before she visibly stifled the emotion, regarding Naratha steadily for several seconds. Naratha continued, "Tell me what it would take for you to offer public forgiveness and for Zharen to maintain its current allegiance, and I will grant it."

Alethia tilted her head. "As easily as that, then?" she asked, tone laced with skepticism. "You, Queen of the Shadowborn City, cede all power in this negotiation?"

Naratha made an indelicate scoffing noise. "I believe my son did that on my behalf, actually."

Alethia's mouth twisted in bitter amusement. "True enough," she said. She looked out from the vantage point again. Naratha followed suit, reminding herself to be patient. Alethia certainly already had a price in mind— that was the only reason she would have requested a meeting like this— but it was nonetheless best to allow her to take her time with how she chose to present it.

"I spoke with him," Alethia said a few moments later. "With Darius." Naratha nodded; she'd gotten the report of Alethia's visit from the guards. They didn't know who they were guarding, even if they might suspect after Darius' distinctly unsubtle attempt to flee the palace, but they had very firm instructions on who was allowed to visit their charge.

"How did he seem to you?" Naratha asked. Though she kept her tone level, a hint of her genuine curiosity slipped through regardless. Perhaps, just perhaps, Alethia had seen something that Naratha had missed.

Alethia pursed her lips. "He seemed quite concerned with the human girl's safety," she said.

Naratha gave an internal sigh. "Yes," she said wearily. "It's unfortunate. Though I assume that prioritizing her safety would have been first among the orders she gave him after the soul-binding."

Alethia gave a low chuckle. "Is this the story we are going to tell, then?" she asked. "The one that tries to minimize the damage to my reputation and pride? Prince Darius, though caring little for the girl, lets himself be seduced by her, thus making himself vulnerable to soul-binding?" She shook her head. "It's a tempting narrative from my perspective, I admit, but I doubt that you'll be willing to spread it. His own reputation would be forever damaged. The people would see their future king as foolish and weak, which isn't an option you'd find tolerable, regardless of what you ultimately do with the girl."

Naratha pursed her lips. That, unfortunately, was true. It was one of many considerations that she was being forced to weigh.

Alethia turned to look at her, her gaze focused and direct. "I didn't request this meeting to make demands, Majesty," she said. A gust of wind blew her hair back. Alethia didn't bother rearranging it. "I came to offer a solution."

Surprised, Naratha raised an eyebrow. "Very well; you have my attention."

"Darius offered me his hand, and then took another woman to his bed," Alethia said. Though her tone was level, there was still a flash of pain in her gaze. Naratha ignored it; sympathy would only anger someone like Alethia right now. "In the eyes of every person in this city, be they human or demon, he lowered me beneath her level. So. My proposal is that she be given an opportunity to show that perhaps he has not degraded me as far as it currently appears. If this woman wishes to take my place, I think we should let her," she said, her voice hard. "In all ways that law and tradition require."

Naratha tilted her head, a suspicion of what Alethia intended coming to mind. Seconds later, Alethia confirmed it. "If she can demonstrate sufficient strength to earn that place," she continued, "I will accept that she is suited to the role and accept my dismissal with grace." She folded her arms. "I propose that Tanitha undergo the Trials."

Naratha turned her head slightly to look at Alethia sideways, skeptical even though it was, in fact, an intriguing proposition.

"Humans are not generally strong enough for demands of the Trials," she said, keeping her voice neutral.

Alethia shrugged. "It is fairly likely that she'll fail, I suppose."

It was more than fairly likely, but Naratha didn't challenge the understatement. What Alethia had left unsaid was what failure implied. Trials were typically of moderate danger for a demon. For a human, however, they were almost guaranteed to be fatal.

There was something Alethia didn't know, however, and the remembrance brought more than a stirring of discomfort to Naratha. The words of oracles were not something she could lightly dismiss, no matter what she'd said to Darius.

"And if she succeeds?" she asked quietly. "You'd truly step aside, bearing no ill-will against us?"

"If my opponent proves herself my equal, I can hardly complain," Alethia said with surprising calm, though perhaps Naratha should have expected it; it wasn't as if there was any real risk of that happening from her perspective. "Consider. You can tell Darius that you offered the girl a fair chance to be at his side, and that she only had to fill the same requirement that any other woman would have. If by some chance he does care for her, he will not be able to claim that you acted unfairly. The people will have no room to object for the same reason, if anything unfortunate were to occur during the Trials."

Ah. Murder, then , Naratha thought, with an edge of weariness, though she wasn't surprised; Tanitha's death was among the most likely demands she'd expected Alethia to give.

"There is still the matter of the relations between our cities," Naratha said. "Regardless of what level of strength or weakness Tanitha might display, you were still ill-treated."

"Let a different story be told, then," Alethia said, her tone level. "There are more compelling tales that can be spun from this than the truth. Let it be said that I knew about Tanitha, that I knew his heart lay elsewhere. Let it be said that I agreed to let him pretend to court me while he determined how he might be able to be with her. Those closest to me in Zharen know that I've long had reservations about accepting a political marriage. They would believe that I'd be sympathetic to him in this."

Her gaze hardened for a brief instant, long enough for Naratha to decide that, whatever story Alethia might be willing to tell, sympathy for Darius was the very last thing she was feeling.

"That version of events still might strain relations between our cities," Naratha said, keeping her tone noncommittal. "Further, if it's said that you conspired to keep knowledge from me, you are no longer the wronged party, and the balance of power shifts back to me."

Alethia nodded. "There would need to be a display of forgiveness," she said. "Since, two nights ago, when you discovered the ruse, you were obviously furious. The destruction at the palace and your public altercation with Darius attest to that much. It's a much better explanation of what sparked the battle than some of the other rumors that are swirling," she added mildly. Naratha acknowledged the point with a single reluctant nod. "And then, after you had Tanitha brought to you, after you were sufficiently impressed at her potential… you agreed to a betrothal. And all that a betrothal entails."

Naratha considered. It was a neat solution, addressing most of the problems she was facing. "And as the display of forgiveness you mentioned?" she asked.

"You'll give me a place in arbitrating the Trials," Alethia said. Naratha looked at her in surprise. "This benefits you as well," Alethia continued. "If I am present and involved, there will be no reason for anyone to claim that the Trials were somehow lessened for her, that you bent the law out of a desire for your son's happiness. I'm sure you wouldn't want Zharen's nobility to suspect that the story you'll tell is anything but the truth, that I may have been cheated somehow," she added, the false lightness of her tone at sharp odds with the steel in her gaze.

Naratha regarded her, weighing her resolve. There wasn't the faintest hint in Alethia's expression that she might waver.

"The Trials will need to be publicly announced," Naratha said at last. "If anything unfortunate were to happen to Tanitha over their course, it would be extremely undesirable for the public to think that it was anything but a tragic accident."

Alethia made a dismissive motion. "She's human. Most likely, it will be simply a tragic accident. She'll be highly motivated to succeed, so an overextension of her strength or a simple miscalculation of what is necessary to achieve a task are the most likely outcomes. She's untrained, after all." She paused. "Nonetheless, I do still insist on the right to arbitrate. That is my one condition in all this, my one requirement in upholding the story I have just told."

"And what of the child?" Naratha asked, genuinely curious as to Alethia's feelings about that. She knew Alethia was capable of brutality, but historically she had targeted the victims of that trait with great precision.

Alethia gave a quiet scoff. "Do what you will about that; it's not my concern," she said. "If you elect to delay the Trials until after the birth, I'll accept that decision so long as my other conditions are met." She met Naratha's eyes. "We are in agreement, then?"

Naratha met her gaze for several seconds before turning slightly away. She looked at the city of Karazhen, its gleaming towers pale in the moonlight, then further afield, across the sea to the faintly twinkling lights of Sabria, which had always appeared far too close for Naratha's comfort.

It was clear what she needed to do to preserve this place. Her mind turned to Darius, to his shouted insistence that he wasn't being influenced, that his words were his own. A part of her wanted to consider that it might be the truth, but she couldn't truly let that thought take hold. The implications were too dire.

"We are in agreement," she said.