Over the next two hours, Ruban, Jheel, Dhriti, and Raizada all took turns engaging with the media, answering questions and trying (with dubious success) to smooth some of the feathers Ashwin had ruffled. Unnati spoke sparsely, seemingly preoccupied with her own thoughts.

As Raizada stepped up to the podium to take any final questions, Unnati leaned over his seat until the tip of her nose brushed Ruban’s ear. “I don’t know if we’ve made things better or worse tonight,” she muttered. “Your pet Aeriel has charm, but that’s a double-edged sword. The media is more divided than ever, and before tomorrow’s news cycle has run its course, the nation will be too.”

“We knew this would happen sooner or later, when we agreed to an open alliance with Vaan. Besides, the ardor with which the photographers were clicking away at Ashwin when he was on the podium?” Ruban gave a slight shrug. “I’ve a feeling tomorrow’s headlines will be as focused on his fashion sense as his political stance. This issue had to be broached, and this was as good a way to do it as any.”

Unnati scoffed. “You think our human population is the only one I’m worried about? He just bared his throat to the media.” Her gaze flicked to Ashwin, then back. “All but gave them the top ten reasons why Aeriels don’t stand a chance against the Vandran forces in a fair fight. That might get him into the good graces of some of the ultranationalist factions that’ve so far been supporting the cults. But how do you think his feathery friends would feel about it?”

Ruban frowned. Was she worried about the Exiles’ reaction to this press conference? On Ashwin’s behalf? He shook his head. “He can handle himself. It’s not our job to protect the Aeriel prince from his own kind.”

Unnati made a small sound of exasperation. “He’s not just the Aeriel prince, not anymore. He’s the ambassador of Vaan. If he gets himself killed within Vandran borders, it’d be our reputation on the line. If he kills anyone – human or Aeriel – it’d be our reputation on the line. The Hunter Corps gets screwed either way. And I want to know beforehand what kind of mess I’ll be left to deal with, once this is over.”

It was a few minutes past midnight when Ruban found himself walking out of the IAW headquarters with an exuberant Ashwin at his side.

He stretched, feeling his joints pop satisfactorily after hours of enforced inertia. “God I’m getting old,” he groaned, feeling his muscles unclench and relax despite the chilly night air. “I think I finally understand why Uncle Subhas jumped at the opportunity for a desk job the moment he hit forty.”

Ashwin eyed him, one corner of his lips tipped slightly upward. “With your diet? It’ll be closer to thirty-five.”

“And whose fault is that?”

A pair of dainty eyebrows shot up into Ashwin’s silvery hairline. “Are you complaining?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ruban laughed. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tipped his head back to gaze up at the starlit sky. “If I avoid getting drawn and quartered by the public in the upcoming months—”

“Or blasted into oblivion by an indignant Exile,” Ashwin supplied helpfully.

“Or that.” Ruban agreed. “Then cholesterol is welcome to take its shot.”

“Not feeling very optimistic tonight, are we?”

Ruban exhaled loudly. “You know as well as I do – this is the calm before the storm. It won’t last.”

Ashwin leaned into him momentarily, bumping their shoulders together. “Anything in particular I should be worried about?”

“Anything? Try everything.” Ruban turned a corner, bringing his parked sedan into view. “It’d be easier to find something you needn’t be worried about. To begin with, the Chief Hunter doesn’t approve of this alliance. Or of your presence here in Ragah, for that matter. Without her support, the terms of the alliance would be all but impossible to enforce, considering the mood the Vandran public is in.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“What, in particular, does she disapprove of?”

Ruban turned narrowed eyes on Ashwin. “Aside from your irresistible charm and impeccable fashion sense?”

Ashwin batted his lashes. “Aside from those, yes.”

“She thinks your presence will undermine the prestige of the Hunter Corps.” Ruban dug his car keys out of his pocket. “Compromise our reputation, one way or the other. And considering the public discourse at the moment, I can’t say she’s mistaken.”

Ashwin waited for Ruban to get into the car, then pulled open the passenger side door and folded himself gracefully into the seat within. “So, all we have to do to get her on our side is restore the glory of the Hunter Corps?”

“Restore the glory—” Ruban broke off, laughing as the vehicle purred to life. “You make us sound like a band of medieval knights.”

“Does that mean I get to be the fire-breathing, gold-hoarding dragon?”

It was Ruban’s turn to raise an astonished eyebrow.

Ashwin chuckled. “I was raised by humans, remember? I grew up here.” He gazed out of the window at the shadowy city flying past them. “Right here in the heart of Ragah. Vandran folklore is not unfamiliar to me.”

“Then you’d know ours is – and has always been – an honor-based culture. We take our reputation seriously. Not even all this technological modernization has been able to undo centuries of social conditioning.”

“True enough, but I wouldn’t have taken Unnati Jha for a traditionalist.”

“She has good reason to be.” Ruban sighed. “Even before she became Chief Hunter, Unnati was one of the few officers who always pushed for the modernization of the Hunter Corps. The enhanced sifblade project,” he paused, maneuvering the car to join the highway traffic. “You could say it was her life’s work. She fought hard to earn her nomination for the position of Chief Hunter – and then to be appointed to office – largely because she wanted to be the one to oversee the rollout of the reinforced sifblades.”

“And then Tauheen stole the formula right as it was about to reach the final stages of development,” Ashwin murmured.

“And even after we killed her, the formula was never recovered.” Ruban’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as a couple of motorcycles zipped past them. “Setting back her plans by almost two years. And then, last year’s showdown at Reivaa’s castle – I don’t need to tell you how much of a public relations disaster that was for the Hunter Corps.

“None of it was her fault, of course. But it’s all happened during her term as Chief Hunter, and the media hasn’t hesitated to place the blame squarely on her shoulders.” His eyes fixed on the road, Ruban continued. “For months now, she’s been eagerly anticipating the rollout of the reinforced sifblades – to redeem the reputation of the Hunter Corps, along with her own. And just when that was finally coming to fruition…”

“By Zeifaa, it’s a miracle she didn’t gut me the first time she laid eyes on me.” Ashwin laughed. “Or, well, at least try to.”

“There’s time yet,” Ruban muttered, exiting the highway into the familiar road that led to his apartment building.

“A vulture’s curse never killed a cow.”

“What?” Ruban snapped.

“Old Vandran proverb. Point is, you should be spending your time trying to assuage Unnati’s concerns about the Hunter Corps’ flagging credibility. Instead of hoping she’ll take me off your plate once and for all. If she did, Safaa would hold a grudge. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” Ashwin shook his head. “Not even my murderer.”

“Assuage her concerns,” Ruban repeated, his tone sardonic. “If it was in my power to do so, do you really think I’d sit around waiting for your permission?”

“There are a few ways I could think of,” Ashwin said, gazing out of the window.

Ruban gritted his teeth, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Go on.”

“Well, if you could find it in yourself to not be a thorn in my side, for once, and cooperate—”

“Get to the point!”

Ashwin smirked. “Now look who’s all excited. We’ll get there, don’t worry. But first, I need to ask Casia if she’s free this weekend. She’s been so helpful these past few weeks, it’s only fair she get first dibs on—”

“What are you babbling about?” Ruban demanded, sensing the onset of a headache.

“Of course, we’ll need to ask Heiqaa for help—”

“Isn’t that one of the Aeriels who fought on our side at Reivaa’s castle?”

“You should probably give Unnati a heads-up about that one, since we might later need her help to get Heiqaa out.”

“What?”

Ashwin waved him off. “Let me think! Can’t be anywhere too public, but it won’t work if it’s too secluded, either. Has to be a balance…”

Ruban groaned, tuning the babbling Aeriel out to focus on the gloomy road ahead. Hiya was spending the night with Simani and her family. And he had a sinking feeling neither he nor Ashwin would be getting much sleep tonight.