Chapter 34
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Anxiety gnawed at the princess ever since she had undermined the reparations talks herself. She accepted the audience without delay, her demeanor softer than usual now that she sensed Edwin’s displeasure. Her diplomatic finesse ensured the tension stayed manageable.
A brief pause crossed her features when the idea of surrendering the crown surfaced as compensation. Still, she nodded in agreement soon after.
Edwin sensed her grasp of the stakes. Belot’s fate hung on this singular opportunity he extended.
No impulse stirred within him to devise anything gentler or more measured.
She requested only a short postponement to secure the king’s consent.
“Let’s refine the terms after Belot responds formally,” she proposed.
Even with authority largely hers following the surrender, the monarch remained her sire.
Edwin’s prompt approval eased the shadows from her face. Peaceful closure loomed for the revised indemnity in this unforeseen manner.
Months earlier, she had stirred chaos deep in hostile territory amid active conflict. Now relief washed over her at shedding this weight.
Catching her own lapse into ease, she schooled her weary pallor and ventured forth.
“Meanwhile, expect envoys from Belot to supervise the union arrangements during their response.”
This gesture underscored Belot’s commitment through the imperial union.
Edwin noted inwardly how the Belot ruler had raised a viper.
Yet he contained his typical disdain this once.
Reports indicated she had severed ties with her betrothed to seal this alliance.
Personal distaste for her aside, pity flickered for any woman yielding love and home to an adversary for duty’s sake.
Rina’s image briefly invaded Edwin’s thoughts before he banished it. No such compelled union awaited him.
“Time to accelerate our side’s arrangements,” he declared.
Summoning Kyle to handle matchmaking duties proved straightforward.
The count stepped in from the anteroom, dossier of princess suitors in hand.
He arranged five dossiers before her.
“Care to review them?”
Her eyes flicked across the stack, then fixed on him, astonishment at the abundance prompting a query on purpose.
Kyle’s customary merchant grin accompanied his clarification.
“Empire customs favor unions born of affection, unlike Belot’s traditions.”
A dry chuckle escaped her as comprehension dawned.
“His Majesty’s thoughtfulness in matching to my tastes touches me deeply.”
Sarcasm tinged her lingering smile as she inclined her head gratefully.
Edwin offered a mild nod and warm expression in acknowledgment.
“Permit a brief withdrawal,” she said.
Eager to sidestep disaster, she scrutinized the options meticulously, akin to selecting finery for a grand affair rather than a lifelong partner.
One dossier held her attention longest—the final entry. Its subject rose from modest roots yet shone in skill and looks ideal for diplomacy.
Kyle, spotting her focus, chimed in with scripted enthusiasm.
“Does Lord Everette Rojas appeal?”
Denial nearly burst from her lips, but she clamped them shut. Such candor ill-suited the emperor and his confidant.
Silence stretched before her cover emerged convincingly.
“Black hair strikes me as uncommon here, yet this one possesses it—intriguing.”
Kyle flowed seamlessly into reassurance.
“True rarity Empire-wide, though eastern provinces host more. Folklore ties those forebears to ebony-furred leopard folk with amber gazes. Lord Rojas hails from there.”
She murmured vague accord, eyes drifting covertly to Edwin’s locks and irises.
Excitement bubbled in me when a departmental runner delivered an anonymous missive. Office intrigue held unexpected allure.
Everette seemed a prime suspect in my mind.
Contents revealed otherwise upon unfolding—stunningly unanticipated authorship.
Curiosity swirled without clues.
Everette encounters happened often by chance lately, but Kyle’s outreach marked the first since those tainted grounds.
His note stayed concise.
“Blue Hawks business requires discussion.”
Purpose eluded me fully, yet I dashed off acceptance for later that evening.
Answers awaited in person.
Early departure aligned perfectly that day.
Blue Hawks intrigue nagged every couple hours, hastening the clock.
The café door chime greeted modest crowds upon my entry—shocking for its habitual hush.
Spotting me, server Kyle beamed, eyes vanishing into crinkles.
His perpetual cheer amplified curiously. Dazed, I echoed the welcome.
“Settle anywhere cozy; I’ll be brief.”
Full proprietor poise suggested odd advancement.
Blue Hawks reference dashed promotion hopes.
Suspicion tinged my choice of shadowed nook.
Kyle conferred softly with the freckle-dusted brunette then approached.
“Sorry for summoning then delaying you.”
Polite demurral hovered on my tongue amid his bubbling zeal.
“Lately, patrons surged.”
Pride radiated from his grin.
He clearly savored voicing it.
Half the tables occupied now, versus prior desolation.
Capital rents and imports screamed deficits regardless.
Kyle’s joy, plus imperial advisor status, quelled my quibbles.
“Indeed, standing room only looms.”
My courtesy lit his face afresh.
Composure efforts faltered against prominent cheeks.
Rescue arrived via the girl’s tray.
“Signature brew for our valued visitor.”
Kyle touted the unsolicited delight.
Their murmurs explained it.
Perplexed gratitude spilled out as saucer settled.
Doubts lingered.
My coffee, his mere hydration?
Wariness prickled.
Gratis hospitality deterred fussiness, yet decayed bean horrors lingered sharp.
My hesitation drew his swift defense.
“Practice drowned me in brews; healers forbade more. Twenty daily wrecked sleep and gut.”
Stomach integrity amazed me.
“Endless drills honed this amends for those subpar servings twice over, Ms. Diaz.”
‘Spoiled’ quavered his tone, stirring my sympathy. Cup rose shakily, trauma haunting.
Steam’s bouquet encouraged.
One tentative sip followed.
