Chapter 18: Agreement

Nemris moved forward once the introductions were finished.

The Lord Commander crossed the red-carpeted floor with the same perfectly controlled stride she used everywhere, climbed the steps of the throne platform, and took her place between King Viar’s throne and Zeria’s smaller seat.

Apparently that was where she belonged during official royal business.

Second princess.

Lord Commander.

Secret aspiring librarian.

Nemris Goldmane was rapidly becoming a collection of contradictions wearing expensive armor.

She folded her arms.

Then looked directly at me.

Of course.

Everyone in this family seemed professionally trained in staring.

Viar leaned back slightly on his throne.

The room quieted further.

Considering there were enough knights standing along both sides of the hall to invade a small country before lunch, the silence carried impressive weight.

The king rested one hand against the arm of his throne.

“Now that introductions are finished, we should discuss why you were brought here.”

There it was.

The part where somebody finally explained why a vision involving me and a giant celestial hand had apparently earned royal attention.

I nodded.

“Excellent. I’ve been wondering when we would reach the agenda.”

A faint smile touched Viar’s mouth.

“Great Sage Zeria told us about her vision.”

My eyes flicked toward Zeria.

She was still leaning against her throne with her chin resting in one palm, watching me with the expression of someone who had already read the ending and was enjoying everybody else catching up.

Viar continued.

“A man descending from the heavens, carried safely in the palm of an enormous divine hand.”

He paused.

“When I first heard it, I assumed Zeria had finally begun drinking without telling anyone.”

Zeria sat upright.

“Your Majesty!”

Queen Milfy covered a smile.

Even Nemris’s eyes moved slightly.

I looked at Zeria.

“Well, that answers one question.”

She pointed at me.

“Do not encourage him.”

Viar chuckled.

“But Zeria has never treated her visions lightly.”

The humor gradually left his face.

“She believed your arrival mattered.”

His blue eyes settled on me.

“So naturally, I became curious.”

I spread my hands.

“I hope the divine delivery service didn’t oversell the package.”

Milfy’s lips curved.

Zeria giggled.

Nemris remained Nemris.

Viar actually laughed.

“A man brought down from the sky by what may have been the hand of a god could arrive carrying absolutely nothing but bad jokes, and I would still consider the event worth investigating.”

“Wonderful. My qualifications remain competitive.”

“I do not yet know what to expect from you, Caled Morningwood.”

Viar leaned forward slightly.

“But I would prefer you remain in Inizio long enough for me to find out.”

Before I could answer, Queen Milfy spoke.

“I understand you consider yourself a traveler.”

I turned toward her.

There was elegance even in the way she sat.

One hand rested lightly upon her gown, the other near Viar’s.

Her brown eyes remained warm, but attentive.

“You have no intention of settling permanently in the capital, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Or anywhere else?”

“That part is still under review.”

Milfy tilted her head.

“I see.”

“I arrived in this place with more questions than luggage.”

Zeria’s smile widened slightly.

Nobody else caught the extra meaning.

Good.

I continued.

“Staying somewhere forever before I understand where I am, why I’m here, or what I’m supposed to do would feel premature.”

Viar nodded slowly.

“A reasonable answer.”

He looked toward Nemris briefly.

Then back at me.

“If you remain for a time, I can assign members of the royal council to help you learn how Inizio functions.”

“Council members.”

“Yes.”

“That sounds alarmingly educational.”

“They can teach you our laws, political structure, military organization, customs, economy, neighboring relations, and whatever else becomes necessary.”

I stared at him.

“Your Majesty, are you offering me a crash course in being local?”

“If you want to describe it poorly.”

“I specialize in that.”

His smile returned.

“In exchange, they would observe you.”

There it was.

I raised one eyebrow.

“Observe.”

“Assess.”

“That word is wearing nicer clothes but carrying the same knife.”

Milfy laughed softly.

Viar did not deny it.

“I would like to understand what kind of man Great Sage Zeria saw descending from the heavens.”

His gaze sharpened.

“What are you skilled at?”

Oh.

That question had become increasingly complicated lately.

I could fight.

Apparently extremely well.

I could learn anything I saw.

I had accumulated enough strange abilities in the past several days to make organization increasingly necessary.

But announcing that seemed like a fantastic way to become the kingdom’s most expensive research project.

Viar continued.

“Are you a warrior?”

Leyra’s blue eyes shifted toward me.

Interesting.

Very subtle, Princess.

I resisted smiling.

“Or perhaps a scholar?” Viar asked.

Zeria looked delighted.

Nemris watched carefully.

Queen Milfy remained composed.

I considered both options.

Then chose the most accurate answer available.

“I’m a people person.”

Silence.

Zeria immediately giggled.

Viar blinked.

Nemris closed her eyes for one second.

Milfy looked amused.

Leyra’s mouth moved almost imperceptibly.

The king leaned back.

“A people person.”

“Yes.”

“That is your profession?”

“More of a lifestyle.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m good with people.”

Viar waited.

I continued.

“Talking. Reading the room. Getting people comfortable. Getting uncomfortable people slightly less uncomfortable.”

Nemris looked unconvinced.

“Sometimes getting comfortable people extremely uncomfortable.”

Nemris looked more convinced.

I smiled at her.

She ignored me.

“I can usually talk my way through problems.”

Viar’s expression became thoughtful.

“How reliably?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“How angry everyone already is when I arrive.”

Zeria laughed again.

Viar looked toward her.

She shrugged.

“He is good at talking.”

Nemris muttered, “Unfortunately.”

I placed a hand against my chest.

“Your support means everything.”

Viar stroked his beard.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

“If that truly is your strength, perhaps the hand that brought you here has a sense of timing.”

That did not sound ominous at all.

I shifted my weight.

“Timing for what?”

“We need a diplomat.”

I stared at him.

“A diplomat.”

“A capable one.”

“Was there a recent shortage?”

“There is now.”

Queen Milfy gave her husband a warning glance.

Viar ignored it.

“Our existing diplomatic envoys have failed to achieve the result I want.”

“That sounds encouraging for the next applicant.”

He laughed.

“You wanted work, did you not?”

“I wanted answers.”

“And answers cost gold.”

That was annoyingly fair.

Viar continued.

“A diplomatic position would give you income, status, access to information, and opportunities to travel.”

That was significantly more interesting.

“Travel?”

“Yes.”

“Now you’re selling it properly.”

His smile widened.

“I thought that might interest you.”

I looked toward Zeria.

She had gone from amused to very interested.

Was this her doing?

Probably not entirely.

But I would bet at least one gold coin that the barefoot menace had gently pushed the idea somewhere.

Viar continued.

“If Great Sage Zeria saw you in a divine vision, perhaps whatever brought you here intends you to accomplish something unusual.”

I scratched my jaw.

“Your Majesty, relying on divine symbolism for hiring decisions seems dangerous.”

“I have made worse appointments based on family recommendations.”

Queen Milfy looked at him.

Viar coughed.

“Not recently.”

Nemris looked suspiciously toward Leyra.

Leyra pretended to be fascinated by her own hands.

Interesting family.

I liked them.

Viar rested his arms against the throne.

“You claim you can talk your way through nearly anything.”

“I said usually.”

“Then perhaps you can succeed where professional diplomats have failed.”

I frowned.

“You’re seriously offering me the position?”

“Potentially.”

“We met approximately ten minutes ago.”

“Technically, I heard about you yesterday.”

“Ah. Practically childhood friends.”

Viar laughed.

Milfy shook her head.

Nemris remained focused on me.

The king’s expression then became more serious.

“There is another reason.”

Of course.

There was always another reason.

Nothing good had ever followed that sentence.

“A war is forming on the horizon.”

The room changed.

Not dramatically.

The knights did not move.

No one gasped.

But the humor thinned.

Even Zeria’s expression became quieter.

I looked toward Viar.

“How close?”

“Close enough that we can no longer pretend it will disappear without effort.”

“Who are you fighting?”

“Not fighting.”

“Yet.”

Viar’s eyes sharpened.

“Exactly.”

He did not elaborate.

I did not ask.

Not because I lacked curiosity.

My curiosity had already begun kicking the inside of my skull like a child trapped in a car.

But if the king wanted me involved, he would eventually explain the details.

I was not going to invent them for him.

Viar continued.

“Stopping the conflict completely may be impossible.”

“Wonderful.”

“But delaying it, redirecting it, or negotiating some resolution is not.”

“And your diplomats failed.”

“Yes.”

“How badly?”

Viar smiled.

That was not the expression I expected.

Not fear.

Not frustration.

Excitement.

Very slight.

But definitely there.

Oh.

That was concerning.

“What happens if I fail?”

The king’s smile widened.

“War begins.”

He sounded almost pleased.

I stared at him.

Zeria immediately lifted one hand.

“Your Majesty.”

Viar looked toward her.

“Hmm?”

“Your face.”

He paused.

“What about it?”

“You’re doing the smile again.”

Viar instantly cleared his throat.

The smile disappeared.

King restored.

I slowly turned my head toward Zeria.

She gave me a tiny nod.

So this was a known problem.

Good.

Apparently King Viar Goldmane had the soul of a warrior buried underneath all the diplomatic responsibility, and occasionally the possibility of war made it peek through the curtains.

I understood immediately where Leyra had inherited some of her extracurricular enthusiasm.

I looked back at Viar.

“Your Majesty.”

“Yes?”

“You sounded suspiciously happy about that.”

“I am not happy.”

“Your daughter’s Sage disagrees.”

Zeria lifted a finger.

“I am not his daughter.”

“Honorary family chaos.”

Viar rubbed his jaw.

“I simply prefer problems that can be solved directly.”

“With swords.”

“Swords are honest.”

Milfy sighed.

“My love.”

He looked toward her.

The Queen placed her hand gently over his.

“You may be overwhelming our guest.”

Viar’s expression softened immediately.

Interesting.

King.

Warrior.

Terrifying ruler.

Wife touches hand.

Software update successful.

I smiled.

“I’m fine.”

Milfy looked toward me.

“You are being offered a great deal of responsibility very quickly.”

“That part is true.”

Viar nodded.

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

I gestured around.

“I woke up in grass a few days ago, and now a king is asking me to prevent a war.”

The throne room remained silent.

Nobody knew how literal that sentence was.

Zeria certainly did.

Her eyes sparkled.

I continued.

“It’s a career escalation.”

Viar chuckled.

“You are right.”

Then his expression grew thoughtful.

“But I am not asking because I already believe you are qualified.”

I raised an eyebrow.

That was surprisingly honest.

“Then why?”

“Curiosity.”

Simple.

Direct.

His blue eyes met mine.

“Zeria trusts you.”

Zeria’s smile softened.

Viar continued.

“That almost never happens this quickly.”

I glanced toward her.

She waved cheerfully.

“There are people who have served this kingdom for years whom she does not trust as much as she appears to trust you after a single conversation.”

Nemris’s gaze sharpened slightly at that.

He had noticed it too.

“Her visions have never been meaningless.”

Viar leaned forward.

“So my offer is not based on what use I already know you possess.”

His fingers tapped once against the throne.

“It is based on wanting to discover why you were brought here.”

I stared at him.

No manipulation hidden under flowery royal language.

He was genuinely curious.

That made two of us.

Queen Milfy squeezed his hand slightly.

Viar glanced toward her.

She smiled.

“My love, perhaps allow Caled to answer before assigning him responsibility for the kingdom.”

“I have not assigned him anything yet.”

“You were halfway there.”

Viar looked toward me.

“Well?”

I considered it.

A job.

Income.

Access to royal information.

Possibly travel.

Possibly answers.

Possibly a war.

Not exactly the employment benefits package I had imagined.

Still...

“I could use work.”

Viar’s eyes brightened.

“Excellent.”

“Especially if I plan on traveling.”

I shrugged.

“Gold disappears surprisingly fast when people charge one coin to enter illegal entertainment venues.”

Nemris’s head snapped toward me.

Ah.

Mistake.

I smiled innocently.

Viar raised an eyebrow.

“What entertainment venue?”

“Nothing important.”

Nemris narrowed her eyes.

Later problem.

I continued before she could ask.

“Building some money before I eventually leave would be useful.”

Viar nodded.

“Then we have an understanding.”

“Trial understanding.”

“Fair.”

He leaned back.

“But there is one problem.”

“Only one?”

“You know almost nothing about Inizio.”

“That is extremely true.”

“A diplomat who cannot understand the kingdom he represents is useless.”

“Strong wording.”

“Accurate wording.”

Also fair.

Damn these competent monarchs.

Viar gestured toward the royal family.

“You will need to learn our history.”

I thought about The Pact.

Interesting.

“Our customs.”

Possible.

“Political traditions.”

Dangerous.

“Court etiquette.”

Terrible.

“Foreign relations.”

Useful.

“And enough of our culture that you do not accidentally insult someone important.”

I looked at Nemris.

“Can that part be skipped?”

“No,” she said immediately.

“Had to ask.”

Viar smiled.

“I already know who can teach you.”

Leyra moved.

Barely.

But I saw it.

Her shoulders stiffened.

Oh.

Oh, this was going somewhere delightful.

Viar turned toward his eldest daughter.

“Leyra will assist you.”

Her blue eyes widened.

Only slightly.

The delicate princess mask recovered immediately.

She placed one hand gently against her father’s shoulder.

“Father.”

Soft voice.

The voice still caused emotional whiplash.

Yesterday:

You are weak! Fight me!

Today:

Father.

My brain needed protective equipment.

Viar looked at her affectionately.

“You know our history better than most members of the court.”

Leyra hesitated.

“I suppose.”

“You understand royal customs.”

“Yes.”

“And you have studied diplomacy extensively.”

She nodded.

“Then you are perfect.”

Leyra’s eyes slid toward me.

I smiled.

Tiny smile.

Very polite.

Extremely innocent.

Her gaze sharpened for a fraction of a second.

Merciless Lioness sighting confirmed.

Then she looked back at her father.

“If that is your wish.”

“It is.”

She lowered her head gracefully.

“Then I will do my best.”

I almost laughed.

She had already done her best to punch my face into another district.

Viar turned toward me.

“You are fortunate.”

“I frequently am.”

“My daughter is extremely patient.”

Leyra’s eyes met mine.

I remembered Light Buster exploding beside my head.

“Excellent.”

“She is gentle.”

I remembered her screaming at an entire arena because everyone was too weak.

“Wonderful.”

“And delicate.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

Hard.

Viar continued, apparently committed to testing my self-control.

“So be courteous.”

“I will.”

“Ask your questions politely.”

“Of course.”

“And do not overwhelm her.”

Leyra gave me a sweet smile.

I smiled back.

“Oh, I’ll be very gentle.”

Her eyes promised violence.

Beautiful.

Milfy looked pleased.

“Our Leyra has always been responsible.”

“I can tell.”

This family was going to kill me.

Not intentionally.

Probably.

Viar lifted one hand.

“Then it is settled.”

He gestured toward an attendant waiting near the edge of the throne platform.

“A room will be prepared for you inside the castle.”

I blinked.

“I’m moving in?”

“Temporarily.”

“Fast relationship.”

“You are working under royal authority now.”

“Fair.”

“Someone will find you later with details regarding your studies and responsibilities.”

I nodded.

“Understood.”

Viar gave a final approving nod.

“That will be all for now.”

I bowed.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Then toward Milfy.

“Your Majesty.”

She smiled.

Zeria waved.

Leyra gave me another perfect little princess nod.

Nemris watched me like she was mentally adding illegal fighting venue to an expanding list of questions.

Fantastic.

I turned.

Then walked back down the long red carpet.

Rows of knights remained perfectly motionless on both sides.

Not one turned their head.

Only their eyes tracked me.

I resisted the urge to wave.

Mostly.

The throne-room doors opened.

I stepped into the corridor.

Then the doors closed behind me.

Quiet.

Finally.

I exhaled.

“Well.”

Diplomat.

That had happened.

I began walking back through the same corridor Nemris and I had used earlier.

The Pact painting waited somewhere ahead.

I reached an intersection.

Left led toward the entrance.

At least, I thought so.

Castle geography remained a personal enemy.

I started turning left.

A small pair of hands hit my side.

I stumbled right.

“What the”

“Go!”

I looked down.

Golden hair.

Lion ears.

Blue eyes.

Flowered white dress.

Bare feet.

Zeria.

Of course.

She was pushing me down the right corridor with both hands while grinning like a criminal who had recently discovered legal immunity.

“That went well,” she said.

I looked behind us.

The throne room was already distant.

Then back at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking.”

“You’re physically steering me.”

“Walking with assistance.”

“Zeria.”

“Shhh.”

She looked around the corner.

Her lion ears twitched.

Then she grabbed my sleeve.

Four knights appeared at the far end of the corridor.

They were heading toward us.

Zeria’s eyes widened.

“They haven’t seen us.”

“That sentence concerns me.”

“Quick.”

She pulled me around another corner.

“Why are we hiding?”

“Later.”

“Are you kidnapping me now?”

“Again, later.”

“Your diplomacy needs work.”

She giggled.

Her steps had a bounce to them.

Not metaphorically.

Actually bouncing.

This woman had just spent the last hour seated beside a king discussing a possible war.

Now she was skipping through royal corridors like a child escaping lessons.

Great Sage indeed.

We moved through another hall.

Zeria checked behind us.

Nobody.

She smiled proudly.

“Perfect.”

“What exactly are we accomplishing?”

“Lunch.”

I stared at her.

“Lunch.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You could have simply said that.”

“I did.”

“You also shoved me into another corridor while hiding from guards.”

“That part is unrelated.”

“It feels extremely related.”

Zeria turned while walking backward.

“Do you want lunch?”

I considered.

My stomach answered before philosophy could interfere.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

She spun around again.

“Is castle food good?” I asked.

“Very.”

“Then why are we sneaking?”

She did not answer.

That increased suspicion.

Zeria guided me through another passage.

Then another.

Eventually the white stone corridors opened into a large garden.

Sunlight immediately changed the atmosphere.

Flowers filled arranged beds along stone paths.

Small trees provided patches of shade.

A fountain stood in the center, carved in the shape of several lions pouring water into a round basin.

Zeria hurried behind one of the taller hedges.

She peeked back toward the palace.

I followed.

“What are we hiding from?”

“Everyone.”

“Wonderful.”

She waited.

No guards appeared.

Zeria clasped both hands together.

“Success.”

I stared at her.

“You are the Great Sage.”

“Yes.”

“Second most important person in the kingdom.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sneaking around your own castle.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Just establishing facts.”

She smiled brightly.

“The food inside is excellent.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a contradiction.”

“But street food is better.”

I paused.

“Street food.”

“Yes.”

Her smile changed.

Mischievous.

Dangerous.

The same expression she had worn right before telling me she intended to keep my species secret from the entire world.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Zeria.”

“What?”

“What are you planning?”

“Lunch.”

“That answer has become untrustworthy.”

She reached for my hand.

Her fingers wrapped around mine.

Soft.

Warm.

Then she pulled.

“Come on.”

I stumbled after her.

“Where?”

She guided me toward the far end of the garden.

Behind thick flowering vines, almost completely hidden from the normal path, was a narrow stone opening.

Not a decorative arch.

A passage.

Small.

Dark.

Suspicious.

Naturally.

Zeria pushed aside part of the hanging foliage.

A dry tunnel disappeared beneath the palace wall.

I stared.

“Excuse me.”

She looked back.

“Yes?”

“Great Sage.”

“Yes?”

“Why does the royal garden have a secret tunnel?”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Because secret tunnels are useful.”

“That answer explained nothing.”

“Exactly.”

She stepped inside.

I remained at the entrance.

She looked back.

“Come.”

“Where does this lead?”

“Outside.”

“Outside where?”

“The city.”

I stared at her.

Then slowly looked back toward the castle.

“No.”

Zeria blinked.

“No?”

“Nemris is going to kill me.”

“She won’t.”

“She threatened me before we became acquaintances.”

“She likes you more now.”

“That might make the murder personal.”

Zeria giggled.

Then she pressed one finger against her lips.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to leave before anyone realizes I’m gone.”

Ah.

There it was.

I stared.

“You are not allowed to leave.”

“I am allowed.”

“Then why are we crawling through architecture?”

She hesitated.

“I am discouraged.”

“That means no.”

“It means discouraged.”

“Zeria.”

She sighed dramatically.

“Nemris worries.”

“Reasonably, based on current evidence.”

“She always sends guards.”

“Also reasonable.”

“And people follow me everywhere.”

“You are politically important.”

“I know.”

Her shoulders dropped.

Then she looked at me with enormous blue eyes.

“But I haven’t been able to walk through the city normally in ages.”

Oh no.

No.

Absolutely not.

That face was illegal.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Probably.

Maybe.

She looked too innocent to be certain.

“Street food,” she said softly.

I crossed my arms.

“You are weaponizing lunch.”

“It’s very good lunch.”

I looked at the tunnel.

Then at her.

Then back toward the castle.

Somewhere inside, Nemris was probably still speaking with her father.

Zeria followed my gaze.

“We need to hurry.”

“Why?”

“Because once Nemris realizes I left the palace without an escort, she’ll turn the entire capital upside down.”

I stared.

“You say that like it’s cute.”

Zeria smiled.

“It is a little cute.”

“It sounds militarized.”

“She worries too much.”

“She commands the military. Worrying with resources is her profession.”

Zeria laughed.

“It may be a long time before I get another chance like this.”

Something in her voice softened.

That changed things slightly.

Not enough for good judgment.

But enough for my bad judgment to receive emotional justification.

I looked at her.

The Great Sage.

Barefoot.

Flower dress.

One of the kingdom’s most important figures.

Apparently trapped behind guards, titles, obligations, visions, politics, and people deciding where she could go because she mattered too much.

Nemris had wanted to become a librarian and been turned into a commander because the kingdom considered her power too valuable to “waste.”

Leyra wanted to beat strangers unconscious in an underground cage while everyone believed she was a delicate princess.

And now Zeria was sneaking through a secret tunnel because she wanted street food.

This royal family had issues.

I respected them deeply.

Zeria reached for my hand again.

This time, instead of grabbing my wrist, she threaded her fingers between mine.

I looked down.

Her hand was small.

Very soft.

She squeezed once.

“Please?”

There it was.

The killing blow.

Not magic.

Not prophecy.

Not divine visions.

Cute woman says please.

Humanity never stood a chance.

I sighed.

“This is a terrible idea.”

Zeria’s smile became radiant.

“So you’re coming?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re coming.”

“I object to your interpretation.”

She pulled me into the passage.

The tunnel was narrow but dry, reinforced by old stonework beneath the palace garden.

Zeria moved ahead with barely contained excitement.

Her golden tail swayed behind her.

Every few steps, she looked back at me with that innocent, mischievous smile.

The kind of smile that clearly belonged to someone doing something she absolutely knew she should not be doing while somehow remaining convinced the universe would forgive her because she was adorable.

Unfortunately, the universe had apparently assigned me to help.

I looked at our joined hands.

Then at the bright excitement in her eyes.

I should have stopped her.

I should have found Nemris.

I should have behaved like a responsible adult.

Naturally, I did none of those things.

I let her pull me away.