“The species prejudice tripped him up,” I said. “The otrokars are so specialized that you can tell at a glance who is a range fighter and who is a front-line bruiser. Kosandion looks like he’d be a strategist or a tactician at best.”

“Yes,” Sean agreed. “Surkar judges his opponents by size and what they are wearing. Vampire knights are warriors because they are large and wear armor. Kosandion doesn’t look like a warrior, and Surkar discounted him as a physical threat. In his head, he would crush Kosandion like a gnat, and then the Dominion would love him so much for it, they would force the Sovereign to take him as a spouse.”

“So Surkar was planning to beat up a man he thought was a civilian and clearly no match for him? And he thought people would love him for it?”

“Basically.”

“Doesn’t exactly portray him in the best light.”

Sean shrugged. “It was dawning on him when I left. If he’d stopped to think about it, that challenge would’ve never happened, but he hadn’t, because Caldenia filled his head with fog and nonsense. She never suggested that he challenge Kosandion. She just led him to that door, showed him the shiny world on the other side, and he jumped through it on his own.”

A door opened in the distance. Caldenia was incoming.

“Your favorite person is on the way.”

Sean made a low rumbling noise.

I shivered. “So scary.”

“Do you want me to babysit them so you can take a break?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Caldenia is more comfortable with me. I have a feeling this will be a difficult meeting.”

Caldenia rounded the bend of the path. She wore a pale gown with a trumpet silhouette and a bateau neckline that cut in a horizontal slash just under her neck. The narrow sleeves were translucent, made of fabric that resembled tulle, and a small cape fell in graceful folds from her shoulders to her knees. The metallic fabric shimmered slightly as she walked, neither pink, nor beige, nor lavender, but on the crossroads of all three. It was a conservative dress that communicated power and maturity without reading old.

It was also a style she almost never wore anymore. Her national origins echoed in it. She looked like the head of state she used to be.

The inn chimed, and we simultaneously paused. The Dushegubs had decided to pummel the walls of the Pit. Sean squeezed my hand again and marched down the path. Sean had just about enough of their acting out, and the Dushegubs were about to learn the meaning of regret.

Caldenia and he passed each other on the path, heading in opposite directions. She raised her eyebrows at him and approached me.

“He seems rather annoyed,” she said.

“You permanently damaged Surkar.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You broke his spirit.”