“We could invite the Sunvaaran delegation here, to Kamenev,” he said mildly.
“Why would the Crown Prince’s retinue take us up on our invite?”
“Because we’ll have an ambassador from the Elves visiting us.”
Luka raised an eyebrow at his aide. “You’ve heard back from the Elves?”
Stoffel nodded. “Lord Erlan’s aide has written to me that he will be visiting us to finalize the terms of our agreement about the sea routes. The letter arrived just now, they will be here in two weeks.”
“You’ve been writing to the Elves?” Maya stared at Luka, wondering when this had happened. And why.
“You thought I’d just been holed up in here drinking my days away, didn’t you?” Luka’s voice was sharp, and Maya shifted uncomfortably. It was what she’d assumed, and now she felt a little prick of shame for misjudging her best friend.
“Apologies, I should not have assumed—”
He cut her off with an irritable wave, and Maya subsided, suddenly feeling that their relationship wasn’t on as sure a footing as she’d thought. They’d fallen into their usual bantering-challenging-quarreling relationship with each other ever since the day she’d first barged into his study, and she’d assumed that it meant that everything between them was as it should be. Now, she was forcibly reminded that things were different.
“Well, I shan’t keep you from your discussion,” she said stiffly, standing and setting her empty teacup on Luka’s table. “I’ll see you both at dinner, then.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Three days would go by before Luka saw Maya again. He knew she expected him to be there for breakfast and lunch regularly, but the first day, he’d been busy with discussing arrangements for the Elves’ visit, and then it turned out that Maya had some idea for a new invention, and she spent most of her time locked up in the makeshift lab she’d set up in her rooms.
Luka had felt a little guilty when Stoffel had set the invoice for lab equipment and stoves and such before him for his signature. He should’ve been the one to get everything ready for Maya, but he’d been too caught up in his own misery to think about it. He was still annoyed at Stoffel’s presumption at writing to Maya in his name, but after his aide had apologized, Luka had made him swear not to do it again, and that had been that.
They had fallen back into their normal working relationship, just as he’d fallen back into his old relationship with Maya, despite the many years and many silences that lay between them.
But Luka didn’t have the time to think about the past, just as it seemed Maya didn’t, either. He had plans to look at, maps to peruse, and ships to commission.
Tonight, Luka was looking over the battle plans for that the War Council had drawn up. They’d sent a record of the things they’d discussed in the meetings to him by messenger hawk. He wasn’t sure how long they would continue to feed him information, especially since he insisted on staying here in Kamenev instead of staying at the capital, with the rest of the War Council. He’d have to make the trip to the capital eventually, but that was a problem for the future.
For now, he had to worry about getting his men back to Kamenev safely.
Luka and the rest of his injured men had been sent back to Drakazov, but the rest of his soldiers had been absorbed into Volkov’s regiment. He couldn’t do much for his best friend or his men from here, but he sent letters to Volkov whenever he could, sharing information and giving advice. He was desperate to feel like he was doingsomethingto make sure Volkov and the rest of his men returned from this damnable war.
He looked up from his papers at the knock on his doors. Luka frowned, wondering who would be bothering him at this hour.
He’d had a dinner tray brought to his room, and the after-dinner cup of tea that sat his elbow had grown cold. Most of the inhabitants of the castle were long asleep; he was one of the few still awake.
When the knock repeated itself, he rolled his eyes in irritation, and gave a vague grunt. Let them take it as they may. If they thought he was busy and went away, all the better for him, after all. He had no such luck, however, as the doors opened, and he looked up to see Maya standing in the doorway.
“Luka, I need your help,” she said shortly, blinking in the low light of the candles in his study. She shook her head in exasperation, as if she was unhappy to be asking him for his help. She strode forward to look down at the maps he was currently perusing.
Luka said nothing in reply, and she went on. “Well, don't you even want to know what I want?”
“No,” he replied, picking up his quill to make a note in the margin of a map. “If you haven't noticed, Maya, I'm a little busy right now, I can't drop everything just to accommodate you and your whims.”
Drawing out a chair nearby, Maya sat down, ignoring his anger. Her eyes had gone dark and serious, now, and she seemed oddly nervous.
“Luka,' she said hesitantly, “I was thinking about what you said the last time we spoke. About how you were trying your best to keep your men safe.”
He looked up at that, and she went on hurriedly. “I've been working on something that might help, but—"
“I don’t have time for this, Maya,” Luka gritted out, cutting her off. He didn’t have time to deal with one of her theories or her experiments, he had things to do in the real world.
“Give me a chance, Luka,” Maya said, her eyes serious, and Luka sighed, relenting.
“How do you think you can you help my regiment?”
