Unnati’s forehead crinkled. “It’s probably Dhriti. She’s been spouting all kinds of nonsense about Prince Shwaan’s connection to the feather mafia. To Janak Nath, in particular.” A sigh punctuated her words. “She’s spinning all manner of conspiracies, for anyone who’ll listen. Not that any of it makes much sense. But I suppose she thought that fanning Rifaq’s…well-established distrust of Aeriels,” her lips twitched. “Might be a good way to stall the alliance.”

Well, that did make a lot of sense. Kushal and Dhriti had to have realized, by now, that Ruban was onto them. If he’d had any doubts previously, the attack at Dimuri had cleared them all.

He and Ashwin had been there researching the Mayiti family, that day.

Nobody aside from Dhriti and her stepfather would’ve had any incentive to have them ambushed. Nobody even knew of their whereabouts, since Ruban hadn’t yet told anyone at his Quarter about the new course of his investigation.

The only conclusion was that one of Kushal Mayiti’s former neighbors must’ve informed him of their visit, once they left. No other way could someone have known to find them at Dimuri that day.

Dhriti was panicking. And provoking Rifaq Nazir with false rumors about Ashwin was her way of lashing out. A manifestation of her panic.

“Rifaq won’t believe anything we have to say on the matter,” Simani noted, after a moment of consideration. “He probably thinks we’re bought and paid for. Or, at best, that we’ve been hypnotized by the Aeriels.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Ruban said dryly. “Half the time, I think it myself.”

Besides, if Safaa was allowed to be suspicious of the Vandran government, he couldn’t very well fault Rifaq for having the same misgivings about the royals of Vaan.

“If only there was a way to cut out the middlemen,” Simani said, her tone ponderous. “I don’t see why we have to keep playing the intermediary between earth and Vaan, you know. Why not get them to talk directly to each other?”

“Who’s ‘they’, in this scenario?” Unnati asked astutely.

“Rifaq and Safaa, obviously.” Simani bit her lip. “But I guess it’s impractical to propose a private meeting between the defence minister and the queen of Vaan.”

“Yes, Vaan might perceive it as a sign of disrespect,” Unnati said. “But not if the prime minister is also present.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Ruban smirked. “You think that’s likely?”

Unnati shook her head, her expression mirroring Ruban’s. “The prime minister is trying to navigate this river with a foot in two boats. And he won’t agree to anything that threatens to capsize either one of them.” She composed herself, her expression returning to seriousness. “He won’t do anything that’ll make it look like he’s siding with the alliance. Or against it, for that matter. He’s planted his flag on this hill of neutrality and he’ll die on it.”

Simani sat upright, her posture alight with excitement. “That’s it! That’s exactly the angle we need to emphasize.”

“What angle?” Unnati asked.

“The angle of neutrality and transparency.” Simani inhaled deeply. “The prime minister is anxious about seeming partial towards either side. You know what’d be a good way to alleviate that anxiety? A public meeting between the defence minister and the queen of Vaan, hosted and supervised by the prime minister himself.”

Ruban exchanged a glance with Unnati, saying nothing.

Simani continued, oblivious. “The entirety of the meeting will be open to the press, and the general public. To avoid any allegations of bias. Rifaq and Safaa can hash out their differences in public, raise their concerns and present their arguments. Let them each plead their case before the people. They can be the ultimate judge. All the prime minister has to do is play the role of an astute, impartial moderator. Not only will that improve his image, it’ll also give him an opportunity to demonstrate both his neutrality and leadership skills to the public. Mere months before the next election cycle.”

Unnati made a low noise of agreement. “It’ll hit the right note with Rifaq’s supporters, too. That he’s being given such a platform to voice his concerns. And voice them he will. The concept of ‘restraint’ is alien to the man.”

“But it’ll reassure the people that they know exactly what’s going on with the alliance negotiations,” Simani pointed out. “That it’s not some closed-door government conspiracy.”

“And that they have at least one representative speaking on their behalf,” Ruban said. “Who has nothing but humanity’s best interest at heart.”

“It might still upset some people, though.” Unnati warned. “Particularly the cults. Rifaq has become very popular with some of them, recently. Not that he’s ever solicited their support. Or needed it.” Wearily, she combed her fingers through her hair. “Nonetheless, they like him a lot. No prizes for guessing why. And they might see it as a betrayal. Him agreeing to such a meeting with the Aeriel queen.”

“That’s IF he agrees to it,” Ruban countered. “And more importantly, if Safaa agrees to it. Which is far from a given. She certainly won’t take kindly to being ‘supervised’, much less ‘televised’. Both of which are a must, for this to work.”

“Well, there has to be something in it for her,” Simani said, reclining in her chair. “Something more appealing than being gawked at by the citizenry and disparaged by Rifaq.”

Ruban couldn’t argue with that. But what did they have to offer that could possibly tempt the queen of Vaan?

Except, perhaps… Heiqaa?

Ashwin’s words from all those months ago echoed in his ears. “Safaa will negotiate her release when she comes down to finalize the alliance. Heiqaa didn’t kill anyone, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Steeling himself, he raised his gaze to meet Unnati’s eyes. “So…how do you feel about a prisoner transfer?”