Saba took a deep breath and met his gaze, her mind racing with the implications of his words.
Mak’s absence at such an occasion would raise eyebrows and invite speculation from those who thrived on gossip, discord, and intrigue.
As she gazed into his eyes, she spotted a glimmer of vulnerability beneath the mask of stoicism he wore so well.
She guessed the last thing he needed was a function where he was the focus of pity and commiseration.
Saba decided to take the hit for him.
After all, she owed him.
‘All good,’ she said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll handle the celebration in your absence.’
His brow cocked in surprise, a flicker of gratitude crossing his features before he fell back into his usual enigmatic mask.
‘Sante,’ he rasped. ‘I appreciate your consideration.’
Their eyes clashed in that moment of silent understanding.
Saba half rose to her feet, then paused, sitting back down.
He noted her hesitation and inclined his head, pursing his lips, waiting for her to share.
She blinked as she held his steady stare. ‘The bride price negotiations, how did they go?’
The pre- and post-nuptial parleying was another crucial aspect of their marriage alliance, a delicate dance of power and wealth that took weeks to finalize.
Mak’s silence spoke volumes as he met her gaze.
‘They were afokkin’ challenge,’ he admitted, taking care with his words. ‘But in the end, an agreement was reached that benefits both our families.’
‘Was my uncle trying?’
He regarded her for a moment before answering, a flicker of emotion akin to amusement in his expression. ‘He was demanding, but the terms have been agreed upon, and the matter has been settled. The bride price diamonds are now in his hands, and he, in turn, will support Sauvages when and if we ever face challenges from the Syndicate Council.’
Saba sensed there was more to his words than he let on, a hidden layer of complexity hinting at deeper machinations.
Their union had been forged in the fires of politics and tradition. The negotiations were just another intricate piece in the elaborate game of alliances and power plays that defined their world.
She was nothing but a bargaining chip, a pawn to be moved at the whims of those who held the reins of control.
She tamped down the stab of hopelessness. ‘Was Uncle finally satisfied?’
‘Is he ever?’
The glint in Mak’s eyes told her he understood her relative and regarded him for who he was: a greedy manipulator.
‘Never,’ she breathed.
They exchanged a smile.
‘Yet he has no idea how much he will need to step up for us now on the Council. Our enemies seek what we have at all costs.’
‘Zolan?’
He tilted his head. ‘Indeed.’
She hesitated to repeat or discuss her sister’s lover, sensing his name might drive a wedge between her and Mak.
