a rare one these days. Stupid as it may be, I find myself almost wishing everything would boil over and go back to outright battle. I understand war, at least.
I should be good at diplomacy. I was raised to be a ruler. I was a king. But most of this is simply beyond my grasp or desire.
As the introductions go around, Julian must notice my eyes glazing over and my energy waning. He puts a hand to my shoulder, taking over to give me a break. And permission to check out.
I hang back, listening occasionally, smiling when needed. When my stomach growls, seemingly as loud as a jet engine, we trade easy, forced chuckles. Even the Reds, still understandably wary around us, crack smiles.
“I’m afraid you’ve missed Carmadon’s dinner parade for the evening,” Radis says. His wispy, white-blond hair gleams beneath the lights of the airfield.
The thought of Carmadon’s cooking reminds me of exactly how famished I am. I don’t get to eat as much as I like, not because of rations, but because there simply seems to be no time. “I’m no stranger to raiding kitchens, sir,” I answer with a false smile.
Radis dips his head and gestures toward the waiting transports. “Then shall we? I’m sure you’re all eager to settle in.” He looks over my shoulder, speaking to the others. “Tomorrow morning, we’ve arranged a tour of the city for those of you interested, followed by council . . .”
I tune him out. This part of the performance isn’t for me. A tour. Like Radis himself, a tour is another convincing argument to make, especially to the Silvers. The Montfortans want to show what reconstruction can look like. What beauty can come out of a few difficult years.
As for me, tomorrow I get to look forward to meetings, meetings, lunch during another meeting, meetings, dinner, and passing out. The Scarlet Guard, the Republic, the Nortan States. Premier Davidson and the People’s Assembly, Farley and her officers. Presentations and pleas from all, myself included. I’m imagining my previous visits, where we lived on coffee and furtive glances across an oak table. Argued over everything from refugee aid to newblood training. Now multiply that by how many dozens are here now. And add Mare to the equation.
A headache explodes in full force as my stomach drops.
Food first, Calore. One step at a time.
It’s fully dark by the time our transports reach the estate, having taken a circuitous route to the premier’s home above Ascendant. I’m sure Radis and the transport staff were instructed to show off the city as night fell—the lights, the lake, the mountains cutting high against brilliant stars. Compared to Norta, with its cities ringed by tech towns smothered in pollution, Silver estates separated from the world, and dirt-poor Red villages, this must look like a dream. The Red delegates in particular are wide-eyed as the transports come to a halt in the estate courtyard, looking up at the palace of columns and white stone. Even the noble Silvers look impressed, though Nanabel keeps her eyes firmly in her lap. She’s doing her best to behave.
When I step out, the cold air is a welcome slap to the senses. It keeps me from grabbing the first person I see to ask about a certain electricon who may or may not be inside. This time I take Nanabel by the arm, not to speed her up, but to slow myself down.
She pats my hand softly. For all I’ve done, all the disappointment I’ve brought, she still loves me. “Let’s feed you,” she says under her breath. “And let’s get me a drink.”
“Yes to both,” I mutter back.
The receiving hall of the estate buzzes with activity, and it’s no wonder. The premier’s home will be full to the rafters housing the delegations from the Scarlet Guard, the States, and everyone in between. I assume some will have to be housed in the city as well. The estate isn’t as large as Whitefire Palace, and even that couldn’t house the full Nortan court if necessary.
The sudden memory of my former home stings, but not as badly as it used to. At least now I’m doing something more important than maintaining a monarchy.
Another representative from the People’s Assembly joins Radis in the center of the hall, her suit so deep green it could be black. Her hair is bone white, her skin is dark brown, and her blood is red, judging by the warm flush beneath her cheeks. While she