Chapter 6
The University of Embhullor has arguably the top spellcraft program in the world, which also means its language departments are without peer. The name Embhullor is synonymous with trusted standards for the vast majority of commentaries and dictionaries spellcrafters consult. My notes on Thyrasel are modeled on their structure, and now they’ll be judged by them.
I’m not sure whether I should be mortified or relieved that by my estimation, Thyrasel idiom does not deviate significantly from their norm for the quantity of ancient language references that are actually penis jokes.
It was a little ways farther from that perfectly crafted view to the actual entrance to the city. Just as with the Gates they’d passed through, no one asked about Liris’ identification or licenses when the Lord of Embhullor waved her through.
She really would not have gotten far without him. At least not anywhere near so quickly.
Then again, he could still be leading her very quickly to a jail cell, letting her walk to her own doom so he didn’t have to inefficiently drag her.
As they began toward the spire, or so Liris assumed, Shry asked, “Are we taking the scenic route rather than the efficient one for any particular reason?”
“I want to give Liris a quick tour of the town center so she can orient herself,” Vhannor said.
Still doing her favors.
That shouldn’t have made her heart pound.
“I can explore on my own,” she told him.
Vhannor shrugged, lavender gaze looking elsewhere like it didn’t merit consideration. “It’s no trouble.”
Shry raised her eyebrows at him. “It’s not like you to not go fetch a new weapon first thing. What happened to your knife, anyway?”
Vhannor frowned at her.
Shry elaborated, “I can feel less magic on you. You lost your fancy one.”
Liris swallowed. “I lost it.”
Vhannor shrugged again. “No point having a magic knife if you’re not going to use it.”
“I shouldn’t have thrown it at the end.”
Shry focused on Liris. “Did you cut a demon with it?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s all that matters. I’ll go tell Lady Inealuwor you’ll be a little while.”
And then she was gone.
Liris blinked. “Did she just vanish?”
“No, she’s just very fast.” Liris looked at him skeptically, and Vhannor smirked. “Very fast.”
Wow. Okay, then. “And who’s Lady Inealuwor?”
This was another name she’d learned in her training, but she wondered how much Vhannor would tell her.
He strode down the winding cobbled path with an ease that made it plain that although he traveled, he’d spent a lot of time walking these streets. “Lady Inealuwor, among other things, is the one arranging your room. If you don’t like it, she’ll help you make other arrangements, but it’ll get you started.”
He wasn’t going to tell her? Liris shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was.
She covered her disappointment, asking, “Shouldn’t Lady Inealuwor know we’re here then?”
“She already does.”
“Oh. Then Shry just didn’t want the tour?”
Vhannor glanced at her. “Shry is aware of how people perceive her. She probably didn’t want to interfere with your first impression of your new home.”
Her new home.Not a thought she was comfortable with yet: especially not on the heels of realizing Vhannor was referring to people judging Shry on her demonic heritage.
“If Shry’s presence changes how people behave around me,” Liris said, “I’d rather know.”
“I know that,“ he muttered. “But now you’ll have a baseline for comparison if you want to come back into town with her later. But don’t use her to experiment.”
A hint of ice frosting over his voice.
So he was overprotective of Shry, then, no matter how capable she was.
Liris was going to give him the benefit of the doubt and decide that’s what he’d meant, not that he thought she needed the direction. But her tone still had a little bite to it as she said tartly, “Of course I wouldn’t.”
He stared at her for a moment.
Nodded sharply.
Shoved his hands in his pockets and continued walking.
Aaand... nothing else.
Awesome.
With both of them lapsed into silence, Liris tried to focus on reading signs around them without his commentary for a change. In this section they appeared to be in competition for maximum vulgarity, which was a curious strategy for attracting patrons.
“I’m sorry,” Vhannor said abruptly. “I want you to like it here, but I also don’t want you to feel forced to like it.”
Liris remembered what Shry had said before her first view. “You enjoy introducing it, don’t you? You’re proud of it.”
He scowled, and she smirked at him. Got it in one.
“You don’t have to worry,” Liris said. “This place you’re responsible for is going to shelter me. I assure you I’m already impressed.”
“You shouldn’t feel obligated because it’s your only option.”
“Let me rephrase: you have set up a place with systems specifically in place that enable this place to be a shelter. That deserves my regard. I bet you brought Shry here for shelter too.”
The gaze Vhannor focused on her then made Liris’ heart rate speed up.
Possibly that much honesty had been a tactical error. Trying to lighten the mood, Liris said, “If it makes you feel any better, think of it this way: I’ve barely been anywhere else in the world, so I’ll be a very appreciative audience no matter what you’re about to show me.”
Vhannor snorted but shook his head, breaking that intent gaze. “And would you be satisfied clearing low standards?”
“I suppose not. But you have an opportunity to set a high standard for me to match other places against.”
His lips quirked. “Ah, and then I’ll have to make sure to show you other places, won’t I?”
“It’s the only way to test fairly,” Liris confirmed with mock-seriousness.
“You have a bargain,” Vhannor said as if he was actually serious.
He pointed places out along the main path: a shop with boots designed to hold up to travel, as if she had money to spend; one that sold different soaps, as if Liris had any idea what to do with fancy bath supplies. There were certain assignments where she’d have been trained what to do, but lacking that, the best she had was training in not gaping around like an uncultured bumpkin.
She still struggled to take in everything amidst all the people, all the noise. The citadel at Serenthuar had always been quiet, except for specific tests, and at times as she outgrew the other candidates who had yet to be assigned, whole days would pass without Liris seeing a single person.
Here, they were just... everywhere. Doing, it seemed, whatever they wanted. Painting whatever they wanted on the sides of their buildings—like they would be judged on their self-expression rather than expression of community solidarity. Everywhere was made of stone because that was what they had, but what they did with it... everyone got to choose for themselves.
Vhannor paused outside one shop and raised his eyebrows expectantly, and Liris realized its window display was full of love charms. Liris pursed her lips briefly to contain both her annoyance and her amusement.
“Well well, that was nearly an actual expression,” he said. “You’re allowed to have opinions, you know.”
“That’s not the same thing as sharing those preferences with strangers. Would it be polite to tell the shop owners they’re purveyors of lies?”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s a vast difference between offering unsolicited criticism and maintaining an impression of being uninterested in everything.”
Liris blinked. “I’m not uninterested. I’m absorbing as many details as I can, but when nothing is familiar, that takes more concentration.”
“Nothing? What are Serenthuar’s markets like, then?”
“A market in Serenthuar is like the desert has opened on a jewel. From the sands emerge colors more vibrant than any you’ve seen, glass glinting in the sun, rich tapestries floating in the breeze like a mirage, and if you know just the right person to turn to, hidden treasures wait.”
Vhannor frowned at her. “You’ve never been to a market in Serenthuar?”
Her recitation had been perfect. “What gave it away?”
“You have a tendency toward the literal, and you didn’t mention your personal experience of it.”
He’d noticed the omission. “No. My few excursions outside the palace were for educational purposes only and were always highly supervised.”
“And here I am, judging how you react to a market.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
What now? She studied the love charms while she waited for him to get to the point. A trick so politicians wouldn’t find you too desperate.
Vhannor hadn’t been kidding about how common these were, as there were a wide variety of designs: wood or metal, different scripts within a language, forms from bracelets to plaques. Amazing.
He drew up next to her, so close she could feel the heat of his presence and her heart quickened.
He turned the display around, as if they were both looking at it together. Picking out a love charm together.
She wanted to smack her own brain for that thought.
“I don’t want to just recite at you, too,” Vhannor finally muttered. “I’m trying to think what the best way for you to learn this place is.”
Okay, she could talk strategy. “In Serenthuar, my teachers would construct situations like blindfolding me to test what I could discern from smell and sound alone. It was a way to focus on one sensation at a time to build a framework.”
After a long moment of silence, she met Vhannor’s gaze as he stared down at her with a challenging look of her own.
“Was there something?” she asked. He didn’t get to just look at her like that and not tell her why.
“I was thinking more how to introduce you to the market as an experience like a normal person,” Vhannor said carefully.
Liris huffed. “If I knew how to do that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“I’m the Lord of Embhullor,” Vhannor said dryly. “I don’t know how to experience a market like a normal person either. Let’s give it a try anyway.”
Okay. Not so much a test of how much she could learn at once then, but more how well she could mimic. She couldn’t replicate internal feelings, but behavior was observable.
After a minute, she carefully asked a question about the purpose behind a lewd drawing on one shop, and Vhannor grinned as he explained the long-running friendly rivalry between the owner and her sister across the street.
Liris ignored the way her heart lifted in triumph at the expression on his face.
She was too honest even with herself to really believe her pleasure was entirely due to a successful casual conversational gambit.
Some adolescents looked embarrassed on Vhannor’s behalf as he recounted the feud, but neither he nor the clerks—who got a raucous laugh out of his rendition—seemed bothered. And when the people who recognized Vhannor looked at him like he was insane for knowing or bothering, or looked discomfited at either his presence or knowledge, he simply continued explaining customs and local history without asking for her conclusions unless she offered them.
He was trying, she realized, very hard to not test her. Beyond the initial parameters.
She had no idea what to do with that.
“What,” Vhannor asked with that perfect smirk as she regarded him thoughtfully, “didn’t think I’d actually know my way around outside the university?”
Frankly Liris assumed he knew his way around every street in all the realms. “I’d assumed you’d have other things to do. That you’d make arrangements for me to be shown places. That’s not what you meant, was it?”
“No, I said I’d show you.“ He paused. “Void it, that was its own assumption, wasn’t it? You’d probably prefer different company, for different perspectives—“
“No, I want you.” Liris’ and Vhannor’s eyes both widened—that had come out wrong.
Or... unwisely.
She rushed on, “Thank you for explicitly giving me an out. If I would ever prefer different company I’ll let you know, but at this time I don’t.”
They lapsed into a different silence then, and Liris was unspeakably glad when Vhannor cleared his throat and drew her attention to a small Sonang restaurant and back to the experiment.
Maybe a game. This wasn’t Liris’ normal way of learning, but the conversation, and Vhannor, gave her a point of focus, and a medium through which to interact with Embhullor rather than existing outside it.
This had to be a strange exercise for the Lord of Embhullor, too, but for all his assertions that Liris should feel free to share herself here, he held himself back in an effort to make that space for her.
Liris found that consideration annoying, but she supposed he was no more likely to commit to full openness than she was.
The game changed as they came to the entrance to the university somewhat ahead of the spire, and once inside, it was like entering a whole other realm within the realm. The university was built like a castle on a tor with individual colleges, libraries, and towers. Buildings that had served one purpose long ago had been cannibalized by other colleges since, leading to a convoluted, nonsensical mess of geography that Liris found absolutely delightful.
From the spire a person could apparently see across all of the University of Embhullor and beyond. But within the university grounds, although there were people all around, it was quiet again. Like even being here was a kind of focus against the distractions of the world.
Serenthuar’s palace had been like that. Liris hadn’t expected to miss that quality, but it was different knowing she’d be able to leave it.
Vhannor led her inside one of the towers that looked just like any other, up a winding staircase, and into a tastefully appointed office.
Oil paintings of landscapes were mounted around the room, each of them reflecting the same shade of blue as the rug. A collection of canes in various styles stood within easy reach of the tidy desk, whose only obvious personal touch was a framed sketch of two women smiling at each other, one wearing goggles and covered in ink and the other elegant in an expensive dress.
The only occupant of the room resembled the latter and sat knitting in a plush chair in the center.
Liris took in the woman’s taste, attire, and ease here, calculated the correct degree of bow, and executed.
“Please, take a seat.” Lady Inealuwor gestured to the other chair and couch in the room. “You must be Liris. Don’t fret about bows with me—if I wanted that sort of pomp, I’d have a sign on my door.”
Liris took a seat on the couch, and Vhannor sat next to her. Lady Inealuwor raised her eyebrows at this, and Vhannor raised his right back.
An expression of support. But why?
“What would the sign say?” Liris asked.
“‘Consider carefully before bringing me any more problems’,” Lady Inealuwor answered dryly.
Vhannor explained, “I’m nominally in charge, but Lady Inealuwor handles most of the day-to-day coordination so my skills aren’t lost from the field. Assigning missions, making sure all teams have enough spell ink, all of that.”
Liris’ stomach unclenched. Serenthuar had known Lady Inealuwor was the person who made daily decisions for Special Operations. And Vhannor had admitted it after all.
Before, they’d been in public, and she’d been obviously overwhelmed. Of course he hadn’t told her before.
“Why isn’t she officially in charge, then?” Liris asked.
“Aristocracy,” Vhannor drawled.
Liris flashed him a quick grin, feeling unreasonably lighter.
“She,“ Lady Inealuwor said, “wants nothing to do with speeches and playing nice with awful politicians and caring what other people think of me and all the non-daily responsibilities. I am perfectly happy quietly handling logistics inside. Anything outside is his problem. But I understand there’s a spell language I’ll need to assemble a team for?”
At Vhannor’s nod, Liris passed over her notes on Thyrasel, expanded since their departure from Etorsiye, with an introduction like she’d given Jadrhun but more clinical.
Lady Inealuwor skimmed. “Good gods, did real people actually speak this language?”
“Its height was as a competitive art form,” Liris explained. “It began as a language to hide messages from the ruling class and was eventually coopted for salons as a kind of decadent subversion for the wealthy when they were being conquered. Then they were, well, conquered, and let’s say it was no longer fashionable.”
“Ah, that sounds more like people,” Lady Inealuwor said. “Since so little remains, you probably had access to records others who’ve seen this language didn’t. Given the keys you worked out, I’ll see if I can recruit any other scholars familiar with this language as resource experts. They won’t be field workers, but perhaps they can consult.”
“There’s another problem I didn’t risk including via message,” Vhannor said. “The demon portal in Yenti was Jadrhun’s work.”
Lady Inealuwor sucked in a shocked breath, the first uncontrolled emotion Liris had seen from her. “Jadrhun? After all this time? He was never stupid, and... showing up working with demons? Jadrhun?”
“I know,” Vhannor said, “but even if Liris hadn’t met him, I recognized the handwriting. I’m sure.”
Lady Inealuwor bowed her head, hiding her face for a moment.
“You both know him,” Liris said. “Was he a student here?”
“Not just a student—a genius,” Vhannor said. “Understand that I say that as the best field caster in all the realms.”
Gods, to know that about yourself and be utterly confident in it. No wonder she was attracted to him.
And no wonder she had difficulty believing one of the most magically powerful people in all the Sundered Realms saw what she was capable of and was willing to put his resources toward helping her achieve it.
“I can dispel just about anything with no planning, but the things Jadrhun could do to a spell as a teenager—“
“You need to save this explanation,” Lady Inealuwor interrupted.
Vhannor frowned, narrowing his eyes. “For what?”
“For when all the reports have been filed and Liris is both officially cleared of wrongdoing and cleared for classified information,” Lady Inealuwor said. “I don’t expect it will be long. If you haven’t told her yet, you can manage a little longer.”
Void it. Liris had been so busy asking about spells which anyone could teach her, she hadn’t asked about state secrets.
Admittedly she didn’t want them to consider her a spy, but what a missed opportunity.
“Fine.” Vhannor crossed his arms. “You have a dorm room ready for her?”
Lady Inealuwor studied Liris for a moment and came to a decision. “No, she’ll be staying with Shry, provided Liris has no objection.”
“What?“ Vhannor surged to his feet in an instant. “Shry—“
“Has already agreed,” Lady Inealuwor interrupted. “The guest room in her house doesn’t see any use unless you sleep over, and she says you haven’t done so in ages.”
“Exactly,” Vhannor growled. “I told you Liris is from Serenthuar. She deserves to be around people.”
Liris’ chest tightened. This man.
“You did tell me,” Lady Inealuwor agreed. “Did it occur to you that so much noise might be uncomfortable for someone accustomed to silence, willingly or not? And did it occur to you that if you’re correct that demon servants—that Jadrhun is targeting her—“
“Jadrhun lived in the dorms and probably knows how the security spells work.” Vhannor rubbed a hand over his head. “Void it.”
“Indeed. Living with Shry will be more secure for her.”
Liris judged it safe to step in. “Because of Shry, or because of spells at her house?”
Lady Inealuwor smiled at her. “Both. Any objections?”
She was looking at Liris, but the question was clearly for Vhannor.
“If you think this is best,” he said frostily.
“I do. However, you’ll wait outside while I show her the room without you.”
Vhannor frowned anew. “Wait?”
“You have a meeting to attend presently, and I’m not telling you where or with whom until I’m sure you won’t go without Liris.”
Vhannor opened his mouth.
“She’s involved or she’s not,” Lady Inealuwor said sharply. “You have to choose.”
Enough.
“With respect,” Liris said, “no. I have to choose, and I have.”
Vhannor turned away abruptly. “I’ll wait in the kitchen.”
Lady Inealuwor cast a measuring look after him as he preceded them out the door but said nothing as she stood and limped over to the desk to select a cane. As soon as it was in her hand, her entire gait shifted, smoothing.
Such a casual use of spellcraft that could change a person’s daily life so materially. Liris knew that existed outside Serenthuar, and knew Lady Inealuwor was hardly an average citizen, but it was still different to see in action an easing Serenthuar would have considered wasteful, except probably for the elders. The new spellcraft that ambassadors brought back was never this, the kind that would improve life for individual people.
Lady Inealuwor, who had considered Liris’ circumstances as an individual, held the door for her and looked at her expectantly.
Serenthuar was wrong about many things.
Shry lived in a cottage just outside the university campus. The outside was the same basic stone that lay underneath all the other Embhullorians’ painted decorations. Shry must not have been interested in sharing her inner self with the public.
Lady Inealuwor pulled out a key, and Vhannor scowled—this was confirmation Shry had, in fact, approved. When the door opened Vhannor strode confidently to the kitchen at the back, but Lady Inealuwor put a hand on Liris’ arm to keep her from following.
“This way,” she said, nodding at the door just inside.
Liris looked longingly after Vhannor, at the rest of the house and the vanishing prospect of learning it uncomplicatedly at his side, then turned to this room that was now the center of so much tension.
Lady Inealuwor waited expressionlessly. Liris opened the door and stepped through.
“I see she wasn’t kidding,” Lady Inealuwor noted, shutting the door behind her. “Vhannor had it outfitted as a standard guest room when he bought Shry the place, and she never changed anything. I’m afraid it really is about the size of a dorm room though.”
Enough space for a wide bed on one side of the room, a desk and chair on the other, a dresser on one wall between them and a window opposite. Beyond that, what “standard” meant for a guest room was elements from all over the Sundered Realms: embroidered curtains from one realm, a rug from another, the colors of the bedspread characteristic of a third, and that desk’s wood didn’t grow in Embhullor. Pieces from all over, so anyone might find something that appealed to them or reminded them of home.
Liris was so unexpectedly overcome her eyes pricked with tears. It was intentionally impersonal but with people in mind—the very opposite of Serenthuar’s isolationist, self-centered attitude.
Liris wouldn’t change anything either. If she stayed.
“Now that we’re alone,” she said, turning to face Lady Inealuwor, “will you tell me why Vhannor actually doesn’t like this choice?”
“Vhannor?” Lady Inealuwor echoed, smiling slightly. “He’s a noble, and not only that, he’s responsible for this whole institution. He’s aware of the power disparity between you. He wants to use his power for good, to help people, but he also doesn’t want them beholden to him.”
“I know all that.”
“Do you understand that his treating you like any other student would decrease your feelings of obligation to him?”
Liris frowned. Would it? Meaningfully?
“I have known that boy a long time,” Lady Inealuwor said, and by her unwavering focus on Liris she could believe it. “He will not want you to feel as though you owe him something special, or that doing the work he wants you to do is your only option.”
“But given Thyrasel—“ Liris broke off. “You didn’t know how rare it was before we met, and you still talked to Shry about this room.”
“No. I did know there’s something different than the usual demon portal business going on, which means Vhannor needs a new partner, and he needs one now.”
Liris wasn’t stupid enough to not understand where she was going with this, but it didn’t make sense. “Why doesn’t he have a partner?”
Lady Inealuwor sighed. “Because he keeps burning them out. He hasn’t had a real partner in years—he takes interns to test and train them for future partners and field work, but his last moved on two months ago.”
“So why doesn’t he take a new one?”
“Because there aren’t that many qualified candidates for field spellcasting, Liris, and someone untested typically does more harm than good,” Lady Inealuwor said. “I don’t think you appreciate how remarkable it is that you were able to step into your first demon fight and spell without any pertinent training and successfully manage both. Teams usually train together before they can do that.”
Liris wouldn’t say she was untested. “So even though I don’t have any spellcasting training, you think I’m qualified to be Vhannor’s partner?”
Dangerous. As if she wasn’t already attached to him?
“For now at least, yes,” Lady Inealuwor said. “I am making special arrangements so your formal relationship won’t be hierarchical in the usual way, and your future won’t be solely left to Vhannor’s judgment. If you change your mind in the future, I won’t hold you to this, and I will move your room. But for now, having your room not just not in the dorm, but in the same house as Vhannor’s sister, helps prevent him from being able to distance himself from you the way he’d otherwise try to, even if he knows he shouldn’t. It forces him to think of you not just as any other new student he’s rescued, but as a potential equal.”
“A partner,” Liris said, testing the words out loud, unsurprised at the excited skip in her heart. “Are you sure that’s what he wants from me? He shouldn’t be forced into a partnership either.”
“I have known that boy a long time,” Lady Inealuwor said again, very dryly. “I am quite sure. So?”
So?What was the question—oh.
“I already told you what I chose,” Liris said with some exasperation. “That hasn’t changed.”
She would be involved.
All the way.
“Good,” Lady Inealuwor said briskly, reaching for the door. “Then let’s get you to your meeting.”
Liris blinked. “Shouldn’t I wash up first?”
Lady Inealuwor considered her. “No, I don’t think so. She’ll take to you better if it looks like you know how to work.”
In dirt?
“Who, exactly, are we meeting with?”
“The Speaker of the Assembly for the Sundered Realms,” Lady Inealuwor said. “Princess Nysia.”
Vhannor was silent again, clearly frustrated with Lady Inealuwor successfully undercutting his plans. After spending every waking hour seeing excitement brighten his lavender eyes, to find them now a stormy, flat gray and expression tight made Liris want to apologize for being complicit in it.
She would have apologized to the elders, even though it wasn’t her fault, and that alone was enough for her to keep her mouth shut.
But she also remembered asking him if he ever had time for anything, this man who was at the top of his hierarchy and whom no one could make stop. And she didn’t want to stop him, either, but one conversation with Lady Inealuwor was enough to make Liris confident that woman knew what she was about.
Put out as he was, Vhannor nevertheless brought Liris with him to Special Operations’ headquarters without argument.
And that headquarters was the spire.
Clearly visible, but also easy to mark off limits: Vhannor claimed they had more spell protections than most paranoid governments, and they couldn’t easily hide a place so many people worked at anyway.
They took a spiral staircase up, passing floors dedicated to fiber arts specialists, advanced mathematics, and of course rare languages—the kinds of pattern experts they would want easily accessible for unraveling demon summonings. Another floor with people bringing messages in and out, collating them into different reports; another floor full of maps and charts and plans and assignment statuses, where professionals turned analysis into action.
This was something she could do, if she had to stay. Learn how everything fit together. Liris focused on absorbing it all to process later as workers startled at the stranger in their midst, subsiding from outward alarm only at the sight of Vhannor accompanying her.
They passed through this floor to a meeting room more like what Liris had expected from Special Operations. A large round table surrounded by chairs with pads of paper and pens at each, one wall covered in paper for writing and the opposite wall made of cork for pinning pages, and on the far side a window—blackout drapes in front of it, but a hint of silvery spell glare peeking through—with a table in front bearing a water dispenser, glasses, napkins, and a small array of snacks.
Aside from a toilet, it had everything the people who made decisions might need to sustain them while they set courses for the Sundered Realms. Liris’ heart started pounding just from standing in the room where such happened.
Then she glanced past Shry, who lounged in a chair with her feet on the table, to the other occupant in the room, whose back was to them as she poured a glass of water. Her skin was even darker brown than Liris’, her black hair coiled in a cluster of buns, and absolutely radiant in iridescent green and orange—not exactly formalwear, but princess-casual.
Princess Nysia of Woreika: another name Liris knew by reputation. The youngest in her realm’s history to win the election to succeed as monarch after she developed the now-standard demon containment spell—the same one Vhannor had used to trap each demon in its own bubble in Etorsiye.
Vhannor, tightly controlled again, sat down without ceremony—Liris couldn’t possibly do the same, so she’d have to lurk for a few moments. He sent an irritated glance Shry’s way but didn’t say anything, so it presumably wasn’t about her manners.
Oh, of course: Shry had reported meeting Liris to Lady Inealuwor before she’d arranged for Liris to stay in Shry’s house. Shry might not spend much time with people, but given what they must think of her, she must be used to managing them.
“Now I see what took you so long,” Princess Nysia spoke for the first time. She’d turned and confirmed she was stunningly beautiful before Liris dropped into a respectful bow. “Taking in another stray, Vhannor?”
Liris tensed—and rose right out of her bow.
Acknowledging her existence but not deigning to address her? No, Liris would not grant her respect for that.
The princess’ eyebrows arched at this.
Shry snapped, “Got a problem with that?”
“No, Shryandimez,” Princess Nysia said. Liris thought that was a beautiful name, but judging by Shry’s expression the princess’ use of it was a weapon. “But for someone who likes people to think he’s tough, he does have a pattern.”
Vhannor murmured coolly, “Do you want to talk about putting on a tough act? Because I remember during school when you—“
“As you can see, I have reason to fully support leaving everyone you know behind,” Princess Nysia cut him off dryly, glancing back at Liris.
If that joke was supposed to cut the tension, it failed spectacularly, given what Liris had left Serenthuar to. She might not have any personal bonds there, but that didn’t mean the people there deserved to serve demons. Shry didn’t look amused either.
Silence reigned for a moment.
So. Liris had known Princess Nysia was driven; now she knew her to be a talented strategist who could easily pick out weaknesses, but not one who knew how to work with people. Liris should probably sympathize, but she didn’t.
“My name is Liris, Princess Nysia,” Liris said evenly. “Did you attend the University of Embhullor with Vhannor, then?”
The question itself was a demonstration: a rebuke of the princess’ rudeness while intimating Liris’ own relationship with Vhannor, and an example of how to actually establish rapport while fishing for information—which Liris might be clumsy at, given her lack of practice, but the princess had no excuse for.
Princess Nysia’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly. Vhann’s a few years older than me.”
A message of her own: like Vhannor’s sister, Nysia called him by a short name.
Vhannor stepped in before Liris could take this any further. “Let me save us a few minutes. Nysia and Jadrhun didn’t overlap at school even though they’re about the same age, because Jadrhun started university young and then dropped out early.”
Princess Nysia’s eyes sharpened again. “But I know him by reputation—you two were legendarily at the top of your class in absolutely everything.”
“You weren’t?” Shry asked.
Vhannor answered, “Nysia was too busy with internships for that. She got record scores in the courses she was interested in and did only as well as she needed to in the rest.”
The princess shrugged. “Essentially accurate. Why are we talking about Jadrhun?”
“Because the demon portal in Etorsiye was his work,” Vhannor said grimly, answering Liris’ real question of how honest they could be with the princess, but not why Princess Nysia had privileged access to Special Operations.
“Really.“ Princess Nysia frowned. “Did Jadrhun have an interest in politics?”
“He very much did not, and he also didn’t approve of demons.”
“Another sudden oddness.” The princes swirled the water in her glass thoughtfully. “I wonder if it could be related.”
Vhannor’s ice eyes glinted. “Related to what?”
Princess Nysia looked up at Liris, sighed, and sat down.
That was the most invitation Liris was going to get, apparently, so she did too.
“Liris, are you aware of the efforts toward creating a Coalition of Tethered Realms?” Princess Nysia asked her.
“The current efforts? Yes.” It wasn’t the first time politicians in the Sundered Realms had attempted to create an international financial organization, but it was the first time more than a few realms were taking it seriously.
“I see you’ve studied history,” Princess Nysia said dryly.
Historically there had been two primary barriers: incentives for the wealthy countries—since why should they contribute if they didn’t need help?—and security for the poorer ones, who were rightly concerned about what sorts of strings would come attached to centralized assistance. Serenthuar hadn’t believed this effort worth considering, despite, to Liris’ eye, important differences in setup and reception.
She couldn’t help but wonder what strings were more onerous than mortgaging freedom to demons.
“My understanding was that you were leading the initiative personally and already had many key realms in agreement,” Liris said.
Princess Nysia nodded, though her jaw tightened. “I am and I did. Isendhor is one of them, with Vhannor’s support, since establishing the CTR will materially change how Special Operations functions, which is why we spend so much time together these days.”
Wow, she’d given Liris an answer basically for free. Unexpected.
And this wasn’t the classified information?
“But the tide has shifted, and I don’t know why. Serenthuar being overtaken by a significant caster in league with demons shifts that calculus, and the urgency of resolving it, further. Two realms in particular I was sure of before are now stalling—I was hoping since Vhann is between interns he could pay a visit to Tellianghu to investigate, with Shry as backup.”
“See, someone isn’t afraid to arrange backup,“ Shry said.
Vhannor shot her a glare. “There was no reason to believe Etorsiye would be in that state.”
“Reason enough to believe it was worth personally looking into at all, wasn’t there?”
Vhannor scowled. “This is why you’re trying to arrange things for me now without talking to me? Because I didn’t ask you to come with me?”
“Because no matter what I say, you don’t think you should ask me to come with you,“ Shry shot back.
Vhannor’s mouth snapped closed.
“Unfortunately,“ Princess Nysia interrupted, “we missed the window for Tellianghu. Now they’re officially closed to political business for preparations.”
“Ah.” Vhannor nodded.
Liris’ eyes widened. “Oh, it’s nearly time for their ball, isn’t it?”
Invitations to Tellianghu’s annual ball were coveted by the wealthy and powerful across the realms. The ball was a luxurious spectacle, a chance for Tellianghu to show off their enormous wealth as a trade hub due to their plethora of Gates—which also meant the loss of Tellianghu in an international financial alliance would be enormous.
“Exactly. So no one’s investigating anything there yet, but the other realm I’m sure something odd has happened with is Otaryl. Vhann, given Representative Hyorem’s esteem for you—“
“I’m in a unique position to make diplomatic arrangements even without reports of a demon portal.” He sighed.
“So this works even better then,” Shry said. “Vhannor has Liris with him at the ball for immediate backup, which frees me up to still go but operate less visibly and see what I can find.” She craned her neck over at Liris. “You can handle fancy people at a fancy ball, right?”
Oh, sure. Tons of experience with that.
Before Liris could answer, Princess Nysia said, “It works better only if Liris can be trusted. If she isn’t part of whatever is going on with the dissenting realms, or the demon servants, or both.”
Vhannor leaned forward in his seat—just slightly.
Just enough for the princess to note it.
“Liris voluntarily risked herself to dispel a demon portal,” Vhannor said in a mock-conversational tone.
But one that chilled the room as his lavender eyes went hard as chips of ice.
Princess Nysia was unaffected. “Being who you are, Vhannor, what better way to ingratiate an operative into your graces?”
He rolled his eyes. “Liris was trained to be a Serenthuar ambassador. You know what that means.”
“I know what Serenthuar claims it means.”
“And I’m the one who watched her unravel her first spell. Not only do I know what first spell exhaustion looks like, she had clearly never read a spell before, and I could literally see her sorting out patterns. Which, I will add, she did nearly without my input at all.” Before the princess could rebut, his voice dropped low as he said icily, “If you think I’m so susceptible I can’t tell the difference in the discipline I have more expertise in than anyone else alive, will you trust my judgment where international politics are concerned?”
This finally gave the princess pause.
With more caution, she said, “Vhannor, she helped dispel the demon portal only after she apparently taught Jadrhun the language to create it, and we have only her account for what happened in Serenthuar.”
Vhannor opened his mouth again, but Liris laid a hand on his arm, surprising him into silence.
She was tired of people speaking for her.
“No,” Liris said, “you also have me.”
Princess Nysia wasn’t impressed, and her careful tone vanished. “Which helps me be sure of you how? You can claim you’re planning to teach others Thyrasel, but you could teach them anything and we wouldn’t know the difference.”
“That’s true,” Liris said. “Were you always like this, or is it a consequence of the position you’ve chosen?”
“You’re derailing.”
“I have always thought through patterns,” Liris said. “It’s why I was taken into training as an ambassadorial aide for Serenthuar, which of course makes us spies. So if you look for similarities in me, you’ll find them. But the difference is if you have questions for me, I am here, and I am willing to answer them. I will share everything I know with you.”
Vhannor’s arm tightened under her hand, and Liris hastily removed her hand. She hadn’t really realized she hadn’t.
“Everything?” The princess’ voice was skeptical.
Firmly, Liris confirmed, “Everything.”
“Your willingness to share all information is supposed to make me trust you?”
“Her willingness to share with you given how charming you’ve been should, yes,“ Vhannor snapped. “But as it happens, my word is enough. You may support and work with Special Operations, but this is my domain, and it’s my call.”
Having her back—like a partner.
Liris’ throat tightened. How could he, who’d known her only days, defend her like this, when the people she’d spent her life trying to impress had done the opposite?
Was it a matter of exposure? Would more time with her change his mind?
Princess Nysia sat back and nodded briskly. “That’s settled then.”
Void take it, of course that was all a test. Surely as a princess she must be able to be charming, but she’d taken one look at Liris and—
The dirt.Liris flashed back to Lady Inealuwor’s parting comments—she’d set both Liris and Princess Nysia up to most efficiently reach an understanding by signaling to the princess how best to make use of Liris.
As an operative who wasn’t afraid to wade into the weeds.
And Liris couldn’t even be angry about it, because she did understand the princess better now than she had memorizing Serenthuar’s profile on her. She’d known Princess Nysia must be ruthless, but she hadn’t known the princess made a point of trusting no one: she would work with whomever she had to, and alienate anyone else, if it got her what she wanted.
And Vhannor may not have wanted Liris’ life at the University of Embhullor to be a test, but he’d just made it one she absolutely had to pass.
She’d planned to anyway.