Eda gestured to Ileem to sign first. He accepted the pen and wrote his name in cerulean ink at the bottom of the parchment. Oadem signed next.
Eda flicked her eyes to the ballroom entrance, taking the pen from Oadem and signing her name with a flourish just as the Barons swept in like a flustered brood of hens, the edges of their long embroidered coats flapping ridiculously behind them.
“Baron Rescarin,” said Eda with a lazy smile as he and the others ascended the dais, “so nice of you to join us.”
He glowered at her and reached for the pen. “Your Majesty.”
Eda gave a calculated, playful laugh and batted his hand away. “My signature is the only Enduenan one needed, Baron—the treaty is between the Empire and Denlahn. And you see I’ve already signed. Count Tarin, my seal?”
The count gave it to her, and she melted the wax herself, dripping it onto the bottom of the parchment before pressing the seal into it firmly: three stars, stamped in blue.
“And now,” said Eda, straightening up again and smiling at Ileem as if Rescarin and the other Barons weren’t even in the room, “in honor of the treaty, let us exchange gifts between our two mighty nations.”
Ileem gave her a little nod—job well done.“Denlahn brings to Your Imperial Majesty this humble but priceless offering, in the name of Rudion our most mighty god.” He snapped his fingers, and a pair of Denlahn guards came through the courtiers, carrying a sapling with white bark and trembling silver leaves. They set it before Eda and bowed, taking up posts on either side of the dais.
Eda brushed her fingertips across the leaves, understanding the gift for what it was—a true gesture of goodwill and trust.
Ileem smiled at her. “This tree was grown from a seed in my father the king’s court, a precious spark of life from our desiccated land. May it grow here as a symbol of our flourishing peace and our joint devotion to the gods our countries share.”
Eda bowed to Ileem. “All Enduena thanks you and offers this gift in return.” She nodded at the guards waiting at the back of the room, and they opened a door to usher in another guard leading a tiger cub on a length of braided leather cord.
The courtiers gasped and drew back as the guard brought the cub up to the dais. Eda accepted the cub’s lead and handed it to Ileem, who was doing a good job concealing his surprise.
Liahstorion immediately knelt down by the little tiger. It nuzzled up against her knee and she broke into a radiant smile.
“Like this cub,” said Eda, “may the peace between our nations grow fierce and strong and never be broken.”
Rescarin frowned—he had not known about the gift, and he clearly disapproved of it. “Your Majesty—”
“And now I think we should all have breakfast,” said Eda brightly. “I believe it’s been set out for us in the dining hall. Shall we?”
The Denlahn and Enduenan guards collected the tree and tiger respectively, with Liahstorion trailing in their wake, while Eda and Ileem descended the dais together. If he seemed at all slighted by the gift of the tiger—a hint that she didn’t trust the peace treaty, that the cub very well might grow up to turn on either one of them—he gave no sign.
They were halfway out of the ballroom before Rescarin caught up. He grabbed Eda’s shoulder and wheeled her around, his anger palpable. She was annoyed that her guards didn’t keep him from touching her, but not surprised. Ileem stood beside her, quiet and wary.
“What do you want, Rescarin?” she demanded. “You got your treaty.”
“Mytreaty,” he said curtly. “Not yours. If you think you can cut me out after all my years of loyal service to the Empire—”
“The only thing you’ve been loyal to is yourself. I’m done letting you manipulate me. Done letting you use me for your own gain.”
“Proud words from a little girl who wouldn’t beanywherewithout me.”
Rage burned through her. “Your days as Baron are numbered, Rescarin. I would beware if I were you.”
He smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “Curious. I was going to say the same to you. It’s only bymygenerosity that you are still in power at all. The instant I wish to, I can prove your illegitimacy—and your treason—and have you deposed. You’ll be dead and forgotten in the space of an eyeblink.”
Her hand twitched to her dagger. “If that were true, you would have deposed me already. The god I serve would never let you touch me.”
“The god you serve is a fraud.”
“Youdareimpugn Tuer?”
“He’s a story,” Rescarin snapped. “Just a useless children’s story you should have outgrown years ago. Perhaps that is what makes you still a child.”
Eda stared him down. “When you die, when you are sent to burn alone in the freezing, gods-less void, you’ll wish you’d put more stake in children’s stories.”
She left him abruptly, shaking with fury. Ileem caught her arm just outside the ballroom, and she could barely force the words past her tight throat. “He mocks our god.”
