“Well, I wasn’t expecting a face-to-face meeting so soon.” Holding up a biscuit for her inspection, demonstrating his hands were occupied with bowl and bun rather than any concealed weapon, he continued eating. “You’ll have to forgive my accommodations. I’ve had to prioritize secrecy over décor and comfort.”

“You’ll be coming with us.” A muscle in her jaw clenched, her back teeth grinding against one another.

“I’m afraid I won’t be going anywhere with you.” His air of smugness stirred a compulsion within her to snatch his entire life.

“Maybe you didn’t notice the security officers currently surrounding you. We weren’t making a suggestion.”

“Oh, I gathered that. But you’re laboring under the misconception that I’m a stowaway or … worse.”

“Only if by ‘worse’ you mean spy, saboteur, or seditionist … something more along those lines,” she said.

“How about diplomat?” Zenith took his time sucking up a long noodle.

“What?” Stacia’s mouth fixed itself to hide her shock.

Holding both hands and freezing in a “don’t shoot” pose, he slowly began to lower both his bowl and biscuit with exaggerated slowness. He withdrew a sigil, activated it, and a holovid a dossier hovered in front of them. He handed his diplomatic sigil to her. “Under Article Thirty-Seven of the Lunar Ukombozi War Convention, I invoke diplomatic immunity.”

“This actually looks in order.” Stacia was half-tempted to temporarily disengage Maya’s translation matrix to hear what language he actually spoke but reconsidered when she realized the answer would probably bore her. She handed the sigil back to him. “Allow us to escort you someplace more … civil so that we can chat.”

“That I can do.” He eyed the guards with skepticism. “However, not to cast aspersions toward your I’m sure well-disciplined and ever obedient crew, but I will need some assurances that my safety will be guaranteed.”

“You carry the sigil. Until O.E. revokes your status, your safety is guaranteed. None of us are interested in starting a war over you.” Camara Xola might have wiped his ass with those pieces of paper, but the convention had held the tenuous peace between O.E. and Muungano for decades. The only thing holding the delicate détente together, as there was nothing approaching relationship between them these days.

“We’ll see about that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Anything I have to say is for your ears only.” Zenith directed his slight chin wag toward the guards.

“Then let’s go somewhere … more secure.” Stacia swept her arm toward the door.