you’re a little worried about the Rimians and Naloreans, but you shouldn’t be,” Esme whispered to me. “They’re both colonized peoples. We can’t change that unless there’s ample military action, and it’s not our duty to interfere, willy-nilly.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I muttered.
“None of us like it. But I do think we should take our time studying their world before we draw any kind of conclusion,” Tristan chimed in, keeping his voice down. “Chances are the principates are perfectly okay with their situation, given that the Aeternae are clearly wealthy and can sustain their economies through trade. Only, in their case, blood is the most valuable commodity.”
I exhaled. “Guess that makes sense.”
Diplomacy was to be our preferred route. And Tristan was right. We’d have to take our time with this place in order to truly understand it and its people. What I didn’t like was the way the soldiers looked at us. They didn’t say anything, but they looked as though they were ready to kill us if we so much as made the wrong move.
Why is this surprising? You’re on their territory. You’ve made it clear you’re not exactly on board with how they procure their food. Of course they’re iffy about your presence here.
As we entered the palace, Petra stopped and turned around to face us. The reception hall was enormous, with gilded columns and dark skies painted across the domed ceiling. Paintings of previous rulers covered the walls, with their names finely engraved on small golden plaques. Most of them carried the Nasani last name.
Gold-leaf chandeliers came down from the top, hung on brass chains. The candles flickered softly, casting their amber light throughout the hall. Palace servants in black velvet tunics stood at every open archway, ready to attend to our every need.
“You can now remove your masks,” Petra said, smiling. “The sun no longer shines through this area, including the throne room.”
I pulled mine off first, along with the hood, and the high priestess’s blue eyes glimmered with intrigue. “Thank you,” I replied.
“You are breathtakingly beautiful,” she declared, and gave Derek a faint nod. “You are a most fortunate man, Derek.”
“That I am, for sure,” my husband agreed, stealing a glance at me.
Kalon’s expression shifted when Esme took her mask and hood off, followed by Tristan. It became impossible for the Aeternae to look away from her—not that I could blame him. Esme was beautiful, fierceness burning in her green eyes, her slim nose and pale complexion making her look almost ethereal.
“We are most grateful for your reception,” Tristan said. “It is an honor to set foot in this place. It’s absolutely incredible.”
Zoltan grinned, motioning around us. “Indeed, the Nasani Palace is a masterpiece. Our Lord and Lady Supreme’s ancestors built it about a million years ago. Even with other dynasties temporarily in place, it kept its name, a tribute to its creators.”
“How many dynasties are there?” Esme asked.
“Seven, young lady. Nasani have ruled Visio for a total of 2.5 million years. The rest were more or less evenly split between the houses of Shatal, Crimson, Visentis, Mefithi, Mellen, and Blanchis,” Zoltan replied.
“I take it your ancestors once ruled over Visio as well, then,” Derek concluded, recognizing three of the names as belonging to our welcoming party.
The shadow of a smile crossed Corbin’s face. “It was a long, long time ago. Visio has known only peace and prosperity under Nasani rule.”
“You don’t like how your predecessors handled their crowns?” Esme replied.
“The Crimson dynasty are masters of war. They do not understand or accept the politics of leadership like the Nasani,” Petra said. It sounded like a well-directed jab, and I had a feeling there were plenty of machinations behind the curtains of Visio’s throne room.
“Let’s not forget that the Visentis dynasty had no business running an empire to begin with, since their specialty was rather… niche,” Corbin retorted.
“Mazir is not niche. Our magic keeps the entire machine oiled and running,” Petra said, her forehead smoothed, her stare cold enough to freeze an entire sea.
“It’s what you’re truly good at,” Zoltan piled on. “The entire kingdom of Visio is thankful you’ve acknowledged that.”
“Before we go into the throne room, might I ask you all a question?” I interjected, eager to break through the tension that had threatened to suffocate the entire reception hall. Kalon’s eyes were casting spears at Corbin and Zoltan, but he had not participated in the conversation. When I spoke, however, he was quick to reply.
“Of course, Sofia. Ask away.”
“My peers and I