Lyssia squeezed her lips shut. A warm feeling prickled at the base of her throat, urging her to speak. She swallowed it down, and the pendant resting against her skin beneath the collar of her dress jumped and pressed harder against her throat. Its touch burned her.

She knew what she wanted to say, but she had no idea how her audience would react. The pendant at her throat fairly vibrated as she took a deep breath and stood. She did not attempt to stoop out of respect. Magnor was already smiling at her as if he already knew what she was going to say.

“No, I would not. It would be a lie, and it is right of you to want to avoid that trap. I can not say I understand the situation you are in, but I appreciate the fact that you are caught in the middle of a storm. You feel pressured from every direction, and you are trying so hard to avoid showing disrespect to anyone. As far as I can tell, you have succeeded. I feel I have not been disrespected. Father, do you? Why not honor Magnor’s request? How could further discussion harm us?"

Lyssia reached out to place her hand atop her father’s arm. His hand snaked out to take hers, and his tight grip prompted her to return to her seat.

Again, a collective sigh swept through the room. Soft approval of her words, she hoped.

“I hear your words, daughter, and I, too, recognize the great tension that our young ally is burdened with. I forgive the outbursts I have witnessed since his arrival, as I hope mine can be forgiven."

"Without hesitation," Magnor said.

Her father's exaggerated pause made Lyssia think he had not meant to wait for an answer, but he continued without comment.

"As it falls to me to take charge of these peace talks, I say let there be an end to our arguments for today. Let us all enjoy the rest of this fine Eda-Yute day in peace and leisure. We will return to our discussions tomorrow after we break our fast. And we will begin with...the reading of all of Rijek's proposed changes to the treaty. As he showed trust in bringing them to us and patience when his ideas were cast aside, so we will extend trust and patience to his son now."

Beneath the cacophony of chairs being pushed back and boots migrating towards the doors, Lyssia's father leaned in closer to her. He shifted her arm from where it rested on top of his to the table and whispered, “You will come to my room first thing tomorrow morning. There are important matters we must discuss.”

He left, and Azerian soon followed suit. He tapped her on the shoulder and murmuried, "Be right back," before vanishing.

She was alone at the table. But not for long. Bjarke, a tall stack of weathered writing vellum cradled in one arm and a wooden box full of writing implements tucked under his arm, cornered her before she could shove Azerian's chair aside.

"Drottine.” Bjarke greeted her with a cold smile. “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your speech. You helped us avoid what might have been a nasty fight. You are becoming quite the orator. I am pleased to see you trying to use your skills for good. I know you meant well, but a warning...words carry power. You should speak only what you mean, or you may find yourself in a trap of your own construction."

Bjarke's voice had taken on the cadence he used when instructing her in their lessons. His flat tone did not convey a threat, but his words clearly did, and Lyssia drew back. She gathered a fist full of skirt in each hand and glanced around at the exit that led to the dining hall. It was the least crowded of the two and would also put her closer to the kitchens, where she might find Carryn and steal a moment of her time.

Bjarke was still talking. "Peace for the sake of peace can have the opposite effect when you realize that promises once spoken in a public setting can not be easily broken. You must be careful with such promises made in the heat of debate. They may diffuse the argument at hand while leading you down a path of---"

"Thank you for your kind words and your wisdom. I promise you that I only speak what I mean, and I meant what I said. But you have given me much to think about. I wish to meditate on your wisdom in a quiet setting. Excuse me.”

Bjarke stopped and stared at her in cold silence for a moment. Then he set his papers and box on the table and took hold of the back of Azerian's chair. "Forgive me for delaying your escape, Drottine. Let me---"

“Please. Allow me.”

Two more hands appeared beside Bjarke's. Magnor lifted the chair and turned to place it against the wall where it belonged.

"Thank you, Magnor,” Lyssia murmured as she took a step away from the table. She tried to quickly come up with something more to say to Bjarke, but it was unnecessary. He had beat a hasty retreat while she was distracted. She caught sight of him forcing his way through the small crowd that had gathered around the door leading into the receiving hall.

"You looked like you could use a rescue."

"Oh, no! Well...yes…" Lyssia smiled peevishly up at Magnor. "But it's not your job to rescue me. I'm sure you have more important matters to occupy your time."

"I'm afraid I passed on the difficult job to your Skald. He has to find the records and make sure they’re legible. I only have to lead the discussion tomorrow."

Only, he said, as if he truly believed leading a discussion amongst this crowd would be easy. Lyssia plucked nervously at her sleeve. "Did you have something you wished to discuss with me? I was trying to escape outside for some fresh air."

"We are of one mind. I was hoping to get your opinion on a few matters."

"My opinion?" Lyssia felt it again, a warmth that crept up her throat and heated her cheeks. It wasn't a painful sensation. In fact, now that she thought about it, it wasn’t unpleasant.

"Yes. And I thought...It's a beautiful day for a ride. Although…" Lyssia's silence seemed to make him nervous. His eyes flicked down to the blue and silver patterned slippers peeking out from under her skirts. "...I suppose you are not dressed for riding?"

Lyssia shook free the sound of her father's voice. This will be our last lesson on horseback. You are too easily distracted. You must learn self-control.

"I would need to change, and we would need to visit the stables and prepare our own horses, but if you're not in a hurry...I should inform you that I must remain within the stone boundary of my father’s land. It’s only a mile or so of field, but there will be room to stretch our horse's legs and talk privately."

All this Lyssia blurted out, and then stood there waiting for Magnor to laugh. How desperate for escape she must sound. But then again, a ride had been his idea. Lyssia examined him beneath half-closed lids. He looked as tired as she felt.

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"I shall follow your lead, my lady," he said, holding out his arm for Lyssia to take.

Azerian rushed them from behind and threw an arm around Lyssia. "Yes, we shall follow you. Uh...where are we going?"

Lyssia shook him off and folded her arms before her. "What have you done?"

"Why do you always assume---"

"Because you're too eager to run.”

"Roakev is planning another exercise bout. I don't want to be punished again for what I already paid for in blood." Azerian pointed to his swollen chin.

"Oooh," Lyssia hissed. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," he said, shrugging.

"Well, Magnor and I were just making plans to go for a short ride."

"Yes, I suppose if you---"

Magnor's second called from across the room where he stood hunched in discourse with four other men. “My Kongr! May we have a moment of your time?"

Magnor shot Lyssia an apologetic look as he left her and Azerian to return to his side of the table.

"If you want to join us, Az, you may. I think that's what he was going to say.”

“No, you two go. If you keep him out long enough, I’ll finally be able to search his room.”

Lyssia’s jaw dropped. “Search his...you...Azerian, you little thief. This has got to stop!”

“I’m not stealing anything! I’m just poking around a little. Someone has to make sure there are no surprises with our guests. Who better than one who possesses my talents of stealth and...Tell you what. I’ll write my argument down and deliver it to your room later. I’ll do much better with a written debate.”

Lyssia did not rise to Azerian’s playful tone. “Are you checking every guest room, or are you merely taking extra precautions with the man you were calling friend yesterday while you kicked him in the back with a staff?”

“Knowledge is power, sweet cousin. But you leave it up to me. The less you know about my actions, the better.” Azerian clasped his hands before him and leaned closer, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I can tell you that Magnor’s room is not the first I have searched, but I intend it to be the last. It’s becoming quite a chore.”

“And have you found anything of note?”

Azerian shook his head, but his eyes drifted over to where Magnor’s second stood with his back turned to them. “Do you know his name?”

“Magnor’s shadow? No.”

“Shadow...Right. I think he’s some sort of healer. He has equipment in his room similar to what I’ve seen Lach Seaka use. I saw the daggers waiting in his room as well beside a polishing kit.” He gestured toward Lyssia’s new dagger. “I figured they were meant to be a gift. Careful, by the way. It's sharp.”

This last comment, delivered with a casually thrown sneer, slid between Lyssia's ribs like a dagger made of ice. "That was a little uncalled for."

"I’m sorry, it’s just, once again, you get the gift, Roakev gets the glory, and I get nothing. But that's not your fault so..." He shrugged and started to back away, but Lyssia followed him.

"Azerian, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

"What happened yesterday...does it have anything to do with you sneaking around? Did Roakev find out?"

"No. It has nothing to do with that," Azerian said, pulling his arm away. "Some...things...were said and...Look, it doesn’t matter. I said something. He said something. I swung; I missed. He swung; he didn’t miss. We both missed dinner. That’s it.”

"Then why are you still running? Why is he still fighting? If you would just tell me, perhaps I could---"

"Do what?"

Lyssia sighed and turned away so her back almost touched the wall, copying Azerian's drawn-in stance. "Nothing."

Azerian looked almost apologetic when he glanced up. "It was stupid. It is stupid. It doesn't matter."

Lyssia felt Azerian settle against the wall beside her. His shoulder bumped hers. "I'm sorry. Peace?"

"Peace." Lyssia bumped him back, a half-smile ghosting her lips. "I was wondering...I know things are busy right now but my letter…”

Azerian took the missive Lyssia slipped out of her pocket and hid it in his cloak sleeve. “It shall be done.”

“So...you found daggers and healing supplies and…”

"And a whole bag of black gems like the one used to decorate your gift. It makes no sense to me. I wish I knew what he and his master have planned for them.”

“Perhaps they’re common in Dunival. They could be used for barter. Or maybe he grinds them down for use in medicine. I don’t see how it matters. You didn’t...take any, did you?”

“Of course not! All I took was what I thought were a few pieces of water-damaged vellum. There wasn’t much good space left on them, but I needed something to write down my song. I figured it wouldn’t be missed...”

Lyssia held up her hand. “You thought it was damaged?”

“No, I thought it was discarded. But I’m not so sure now. It’s definitely old, but I could make out some writing. Some nonsense about the moon.”

“Well...I can’t stand it when you two fight. Please, Az. We have to talk to him.”

“We?”

Lyssia smiled at the light that flickered into life in Azerian’s eyes. Placing a hand on his arm, she turned him toward the dining hall exit. “I think I saw him go out that way. I could help you find him.”

Azerian gripped her hand tight for a moment and then released it. “No, I'll go by myself, and I promise I won’t leave him be until we’ve both apologized. Enjoy your ride.”

Lyssia watched him walk away without her with difficulty. She had almost made up her mind to follow him, but a hand on her shoulder kept her from moving. Magnor withdrew his hand when she jumped, but she felt his arm brush against hers as he tracked Azerian’s progress across the room.

"Will Azerian not be joining us?"

"No. He has something important tend. Were you able to answer your men's question?"

"Yes. I think I've placated them for now. I'm free to roam."

Lyssia smiled his odd choice of words, but she was only half focused on their conversation. "Shall I meet you at the stables after I change? That way you wouldn't have to stand around waiting for me."

If she was quick, perhaps she could find Azerian first and make sure he was following through on his promise.

"I wouldn't mind the wait. It would give us more time to talk."

"Oh, yes. You wanted to ask my opinion on something? I admit, not many people do."

Lyssia settled her arm back into the crook of Magnor's elbow as he escorted her from the room. Her other hand was busy arranging her skirts, checking her sash, pushing her hair back from her ears. She pushed a smile onto her lips, nodding to those they passed on their journey to the door, while her eyes busily searched for a sign of her cousins.

Magnor stilled her motions with a tug on her arm and a sigh in her ear. "For starters, I was wondering if you could tell me the extent of the damage that my slip of the tongue caused."

Lyssia's blank expression brought a sad frown to his lips.

"Sly...slegrl. Our languages are so similar, sometimes I forget there are differences. I hate sounding stupid, but I can’t seem to help it sometimes."

"No, Magnor. It was fine. I had no trouble understanding you."

"Truly?"

Lyssia let Magnor swing her around so they were eye to eye. Her mind went blank, her cousins’ plight forgotten.

"That is a relief. My worries feel lighter already. Thank you, Lyssia."

"If only all our worries were that easy to solve. You must have so much on your mind. I would be happy to listen to them."

She took his arm without prompting this time and led him in the direction of the lodging facility. Azerian and Roakev could solve their own problems. She was needed elsewhere.

Sidne was right. It felt good to be useful. And if the thought that her father might find a list of Magnor’s worries intriguing crossed her mind, she pushed it aside