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Ch. 2.5- Strange Creatures and Old Lovers


So this is the end of chapter two. Chapter three will be up shortly, with some more O'otani exploits. If you like the book, please consider leaving a comment, they keep me writing when lose motivation <3

ALSO, HofB is competing in @Fantasci's chosen one competition. Stop by their competition book next thursday to vote for it and help it get some visibility!

- Swpoet

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"Ambassador," Tyro says by way of greeting. I bow my head slightly, out of respect and my desire to avoid his gaze. It's the first time I've seen him in a week, since that night beneath the tree when I lost my mind and he helped me pick up the pieces. What expression will I meet with when I finally look up? Judgment? Pity?

When I finally dare to raise my eyes I see nothing out of the ordinary; he hasn't even noticed me yet. I exhale a sigh of relief, watching him greet Tyro with a smile and a firm Kamai handshake. "It's good to see you," he says "though it took you long enough to get here. I need you to get Taïs before-" his gaze flickers over to me, and I see confusion cloud his dark eyes before anger rises in their depths. I quiver.

"Tyro, what is Shira doing here?" He asks in a clipped tone, biting out his words like they taste of something foul.

I relax; his anger isn't directed at me.

"We were at the market when the summons came," Tyro answers calmly. "They said it was urgent and I didn't want to waste the time taking Shira back to the manor."

"So you brought him to the brothel!?"

"I-"

"Wait," Irei mutters. "This isn't a conversation I want to have in the parlor. Mirsi!" He calls, summoning the queen to the doorway. "I need to talk to these two privately. A room, please."

Her eyes sparkly. "Of course, Ambassador. Do you desire any other company?"

"You know the answer to that."

She laughs. "I wouldn't be a businesswoman if I didn't ask. Mark my words, one of these days you'll say yes."

"I have no interest in your- wares," he says after a pause. "Just a room."

"Well, I'm sure the three of you have a lot to talk about," she says as she leads us down the hall, her voice dripping with innuendo. "How could you not, with such a pretty bird beside you?" Her dark eyes flick to me. "I can see why you have no interest in my "wares," as you call them."

"You make a game of riling me," the Ambassador remarks. "Yet you've known me long enough to know it won't work."

Mirsi chuckles. "You can't fault me for trying."

"I can and will," he says when she opens the door, revealing an opulent chamber whose principal occupant is an oversized canopy bed covered in blood red linens. "The room is free."

She pouts. "Half priced."

"Free. And make sure no one disturbs us."

A glimmer of mischief comes back into her eye as she leaves. "Your wish is my command. No one will disturb you, sirs. Enjoy yourselves."

When the door shuts I glare. What a debauched woman.

"Now," the Ambassador says, turning on Tyro with dark eyes. "Tell me why you brought Shira to a shattered brothel!"

"I- forgot how they view pleasure houses in Shikkah," Tyro admits. "I didn't consider the fact that it would offend him."

"It's about more than offending him," the Ambassador growls. "I told you to keep him at the manor, but not only has he been to the market, he's been to a whorehouse too! I said to stay put. Were those not my exact words?"

"You also told me to take care of him, Xo," Tyro counters gently. "He needed a change of scenery, so I took him to the market. I fully accept responsibility for bringing him here, it was an oversight, but I won't apologize for taking him from the manor."

"The manor is where he's safe!" Irei huffs. "Have you forgotten who he is, 'Xantaxi?"

"He's already made a scene in front of the Grand Council; I didn't think a little extra visibility would hurt anyone."

The Ambassador scowls. "We have to be careful."

"You can't keep him locked up in the manor for three months," Tyro argues. "Especially while he's grieving. He doesn't have the constitution for it!"

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" I snip. "Goddess knows I'm uncomfortable enough as it is. Just- go do what you need to do so we can leave this place."

The Ambassador's scowl lightens.

"I apologize, Shira, for the entirety of the situation."

I sniff. "Well, it wasn't your fault. It's Tyro who almost got me sold to the Madame!"

The Ambassador barks out a laugh. "So you've talked to Mirsi, have you?"
"She talked to me," I say with a shudder. "I did not like her."

"But she liked you, I'd bet," he continues. "She liked you too much. Of course she did. Mirsi covets beauty like most men covet coin." A thought seems to occur to him and his countenance darkens. "And now she'll annoy me about you, I'm sure. She's been denied a new pet and I'll hear the whole story again and again."

He glares at Tyro. "She's a Varnic, you know. Once she sees something shiny she won't shut up about it until she has it. I'm going to be fighting off her advances for weeks!"

Tyro laughs. "She is a Varnic, isn't she? I'm sure you can handle her, though. Who are you to be afraid of a little bird?"

"Not afraid," the Ambassador answers. "Just heavily annoyed."

"Your perpetual state, then," Tyro quips.

"Watch your tongue, assistant," he says, but his voice holds no malice. "Now to business. Tyro, I need you to get a message to Taïs before the singing. I need to see her immediately. And by the shattered one, take Shira back to the manor, will you?"

"The singing?" I ask, at once curious.

"It's a- well, a religious ceremony, I suppose, though it's nothing like your temples and high priests and quiet prayer." Tyro explains. "There's a large flute on a hilltop near the sea that someone carved centuries ago, and on windy days it sings a haunting song. Some Kamai believe that in that song you can hear the voice of your own internal god, your sacred divinity, speaking to you. Taïs is one of them."

"My sister is curious," the Ambassador adds. "Always has been. Every windy day when she's not in council she climbs the mountain and listens to the flute from dinnertime to nightfall. She says she hears things in the song."

"She was the one who recognized me, wasn't she?" I ask.

He nods. "She also got you those forged papers. Don't worry, she won't talk. But I need to see her soon, and I don't want to have to climb the damn mountain to tell her what I've learned."

"What's so urgent?" I press.

The Ambassador considers me, like he isn't sure he should answer, before sighing. "I suppose you have a right to know. The delegation told the truth: Shikkah is completely controlled by Sholu Verlaina and his Yukkaiti allies, and the rest of the world is losing its mind. Brekka's convened a war council and by all accounts an attack on Yukkaita is imminent."

"Brekka won't go to war," I scoff. "Don't worry yourself about that. What of the Izsaiki?"

"Brekka has called the head of its four provinces together for the first time in twenty-five years." The Ambassador responds, ignoring my question. "My sources believe war is coming, and soon."

"Your sources are wrong," I tell him. "The Brekkans will not go to war."

The Ambassador looks at me strangely. "You can't know that."

"I do, though," I answer, looking up at him. "I suppose I should say the Brekkans cannot go to war. They don't have the money for it. They'll call the generals to table for show, and they'll send troops to the borders, but unless Yukkaita strikes first they won't attack."

"How do you know this?" he asks me, looking interested.

"Because I know that Brekka borrowed money from my family after the first drought to keep their economy from collapsing. And I know that after the second drought they stopped paying their interest: they couldn't. Their treasury ran dry years ago. They're in extreme debt, which a war would only exacerbate."

"You're saying Brekka is broke?" The Ambassador asks. "Everyone knows they aren't rich like they used to be, but too broke to finance a war?"

"We've all gotten good at looking rich, in the west," I say bitterly. "Even if our treasuries are dry as bones. Brekka has borrowed from Shikkah and I don't know where else, and it's in everyone's best interest to keep that quiet. If Brekka looks unstable, trade in the whole region will suffer. My family didn't loan to them out of the goodness of our hearts. We did it because we need them to keep the silk trade healthy."

"And I know Arisha Kthato," I add, mentioning Brekkah's head general, in control of the largest province, Sobirna. I hope no one notices the blush coming to my face. "He came with his father to the palace often when I was younger and I got to know him well."

Just how well flashes through my mind, deepening my blush. I remember the feel of his chest on mine, of his breath tickling my lips as he laughed and played with my hair in between kisses. You're the prettiest thing alive, you know, he would whisper in my ear before taking it in his mouth and tonguing it.

I can't help thinking of the look on O'otani's face when she found us in an abandoned alcove, pressed close, lips fused. Arisha was so terrified his father would know he never looked at me again, and O'otani- it was one of the few times I ever saw her look afraid.

"I do not care who you take to your bed, Shira, but be discrete! What if it was Somitu who saw you? Or one of the uncles, goddess forbid? Do you want your fitness to rule questioned!?"

I was never alone with him after that, and his visits became infrequent, until they stopped altogether. I haven't seen him in five years, not since his father died and he became head general of a country to the south.

"I know him," I repeat, feeling in my core that five years haven't changed him so much as to make him completely unrecognizable to me. "He's always been cautious and he feels the debt as a sword hanging over his head. Unless there's a direct attack on Brekka, he won't strike."

He was never brave; I want to add. He turned ghost-white and ran from me when O'otani stumbled upon us, and those same hands that used to cradle me, or card through my hair, pushed me away from him as if I'd been poison.

"This is... very interesting," the ambassador mutters, unaware of my flood of memory. "Well- I still need to tell Taïs what I've learned, but I'll make sure to tell her what you've said as well."

He looks at me for a moment, appraisingly, and seems to like what he sees. "So you do have a brain on your shoulders, Shira," he says with a smirk. "Even if you do have turtleroses in your hair and a bunch of women's silk under your arm. Shattered one be blessed, you're a strange creature."

"So are you," I reply. "With your secrets and your spies."

"He's right," Tyro adds with a laugh. "You are the strangest man I know, Irei'kionaxi."

"Quiet, you two," he growls. "Now Tyro, go and do as I said!"

Tyro nods and walking quickly towards the door. Now it's just the ambassador and I.

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