Celia knew she was gaping at the king like in sheer stupidity but she couldn't help it. He was sending her to Islia?
She was going…home?
"It'll be your responsibility to be at Lord Nadrim's side for all negotiations." King Aron droned on grimly. "You must provide him with all the knowledge you have on Islia, its customs and its goals. Anything that will help him negotiate favourably with that duplicitous son of a bitch you call Father."
Celia nodded faintly, trying not to sway on her feet.
"But make no mistake, girl." he thundered. "You're a Tralhamir now and we expect you to act like one. You share information with Lord Nadrim and help him negotiate to our benefit, not the Islians'. Am I understood?"
Celia felt her back start to sweat when the full weight of what she was being told to do, crashed upon her. "You're sending me over there to spy on my own family and then use what I know against them?"
"Precisely."