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That doesn't need to enter into your argument now, though. "That's not the point, Letha! The point is, you didn't ask us before you told the most powerful woman in the country about us. Some people would call that a betrayal."

Letha opens her mouth, then shuts it. "We agreed we weren't speaking to each other," she says at last. "And I thought you or Alvis might try to keep me from her if you knew what I meant to do. And…I don't like that this is how I got here, you know. I want to be honest when I can. I know you could call it a betrayal. Is that what you're calling it?"

As you consider the question, Letha's eyes stray toward Princess Despina's door. It occurs to you that this conversation is very likely within earshot of the woman whose tendencies toward espionage you've just been discussing. If you do intend on telling Letha you're angry with her, you may want to bear in mind that you're probably telling her betrothed as well. Assuming you're angry with her at all.

You force a smile. "No. I'm not. I understand."

You're not sure how convincing you're being, but Letha hardly glances at you before heaving a sigh of relief. "Thank you. And I'm sorry I didn't say earlier. Despina ought to be ready now," she says, pushing herself off the wall.

Or the princess regent has heard all she needed to hear from you, but you restrain yourself from mentioning that as well.

Next

Letha knocks at the door, and there's an answering call you can't make out. It must be affirmative, because Letha pushes open the door.

The room is nearly as plain as the hall outside, though the starkly-angled furniture is fine and the dye for the wall hangings doesn't look Eldriyan. It must be from farther across the ocean, from Mitsun or even Sienha.

Seated at the desk near the window is Princess Despina, setting aside a sheet of parchment. You've had no personal dealings with her since the ceremony after you returned to Archa three years ago, though you've seen her from a distance in the city. Here in her private quarters, her hair is unbound and coils close to her skull in dark clusters. Her skin is a warm brown, favoring her Eldriyan grandmother, and she's dressed in shimmering but unembroidered gold. Though she's been acting in the place of her frequently-ailing father since she was in her teens, she doesn't dress above her station as a princess, never claiming the crown her family has used for centuries as the ultimate symbol of the monarch's office.

She raises her eyebrows as you enter. "Ah, Jun," she says. "A pleasure to see you again."

Next