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And I’m more than happy to give him one.

“Perhaps,” Queen Maeve raises her hands, her palms out to both Torach and me, her delicate brows furrowed in frustration, “what we need is unity, not division.”

All eyes settle on her. Her king has steepled his fingers, his knuckles white with strain. He nods to his queen.

“This is our home. You will at least pretend you have some manners while you sit at my table.” She lifts her chin. “The absence of magic concerns us all. Pointing fingers will not restore balance.”

King Mihel nods, genuine hope crossing his features. “Indeed. Perhaps a more…traditional approach is required.” He folds his hands to hide his anger.

The Meridian delegates exchange nervous glances.

Even Prince Torach seems to hesitate, something almost like interest flickering in his eyes. He straightens, removing his elbow from the table. “What do you propose?”

The tension in the room sings like a broken gittern’s string.

Discordant. Jarring. Lingering.

Like a true diplomat, King Mihel spreads his hands in a gesture encompassing all present. “A ceremony. At dawn tomorrow. At our great temple, the Divine Commons, with four kingdoms participating. An attempt at unity through traditional worship.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. More ceremonies, more rituals, more conversation when we should be investigating, testing, and experimenting with the actual magic itself. But I hold my tongue.

“The gods have abandoned us,” Ronan slams his fist against the table, “just as magic has.”

Maeve purses her lips but doesn’t get a chance to reprimand him.

“Then perhaps it’s time we remind them of their obligations.” King Mihel glares at the clenched fist on his welcoming table. “The Divine Commons was built to honor all deities, great and small. If the gods are changing, as some believe, then maybe we need to address them directly. Together.”

I’d rather force everyone to run laps around the castle until they’re too tired to argue. Like naughty children. But I’ll try anything at this point. We don’t have any other options. While I’d love more than anything to put these pompous asshats in their places, Tirene is still recovering from all the drachen attacks. The last thing we need is a war on multiple fronts.

Queen Maeve leans forward, her soft voice reaching every corner of the room. “The Divine Commons stands at the highest point in Emraldae Keep. At dawn, the first light touches the central altar in a way that has been considered auspicious for centuries.”

“Very well.” Prince Torach slouches in his chair like a child. “We will participate in your ceremony.” His tone suggests he’s granting an enormous favor rather than agreeing to a perfectly reasonable request.

I nod in acquiescence, not trusting myself to speak politely. There’s no way I can match Queen Maeve’s calm demeanor and polished speech. The Meridian delegates follow suit, though the steel-haired woman looks far from convinced.

“Excellent! We shall meet tomorrow at the Divine Commons before first light.” King Mihel rises to his feet, signaling the end of the discussion. “I suggest you all use the time until then to meditate and pray to the gods in your chambers. My guards will show you the way so you don’t get lost.”

A dozen or so guards peel away from the wall, finally able to do something. Escorts step up to each group, ready to lead us all away. The meeting dissolves as the various delegations drift out the doors.

Sterling stands, offering me his hand. “We will be honored to join you at dawn.”

King Mihel dips his head. “My wife has made a room available to you that is completely dark, should you wish to pray to Nyc. We know you have a special bond with her, Queen Lark.”

“Thank you for that, King Mihel, Queen Maeve.” I return the head dip, one reigning monarch to another. Except this is their home ground, not mine.

Once we’re clear of the chamber, without guards needing to help us along, a servant steps forward to guide us back to our assigned quarters. I walk beside Sterling in silence, conserving my energy and holding my thoughts until we’re alone.

I’m impressed by the castle’s guest wing. All smooth stone and intricate tapestries depicting Tír Ríoga’s rugged mountains, forests, and seascapes. Our group has been given an entire corridor, with Sterling and me in the largest chambers at the end. The rest of our people create a buffer between us and potential threats.

As soon as the door closes behind us, I release a groan that’s been building since breakfast. “I need to wash the diplomatic slime off me. Have you ever seen someone as rude as Torach or those jackholes from Meridia?” I start pulling at the fastenings of my formal attire.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Sterling prowls through the room, checking every door. “The servants have already prepared a bath.”

I shoot him a grateful glance before disappearing into the bathing chamber. Steam wafts from the large copper tub, and scented oils float on the surface. With a contented sigh, I sink into the hot water, feeling my muscles unclench for the first time in hours. Taking my time, I scrub away the day’s tension and frustration.

When I eventually emerge, wrapped in a soft royal blue robe provided by our hosts, I feel almost human again.

Sterling has removed his formal jacket and opened a window, allowing the chilly breeze to sweep through the room. He turns as I enter, his eyes softening in that way they do when we’re finally alone. “Better?”