She smiled. A lovely smile that reminded him of Meyna. “My family has held the harbor for two centuries, Kai. I’m aware of what this match means. I just wanted to make sure you were, too.” She began pulling the flowers from her hair. “I’ve spoken with Ghrasia Madah about the murders she’s investigating, and Ora Nasaka told me about the invaders. I expect my family to be kept in conversation as things progress.”

“You will be. Anything else?”

“I have two lovers, both from Sorai. I’d like permission to continue to court them.”

“You have it.”

“And you?”

“And me what?”

“Lovers?”

“Just my cousin Liaro. And that’s… what it is.”

“Of course. I see no conflict there.”

“Let’s sleep,” she said. “I’ve never seen a man look so haunted. You made a good choice, Kai. Ora Nasaka has your best interests at heart. My family is with you. I am with you.”

Ahkio stared at the stack of temple maps. “Let’s hope it’s enough,” he said.

After Mohrai went back to the harbor, Ahkio finalized a draft of the revised Dhai constitution. The clan leaders set their signatures on it, and he took it up to his room to stare at it. They would sit with him at council four times a year, rotating the location of the meeting to a new clan each time, and debate matters of state. Clan leaders would continue to be elected by their clans, and each clan had the same weight when voting motions into law. The Kai line was still hereditary. Oras still chose the Kai from among the Kai line.

But there were more limits. He could request no taxes without their permission. Could conscript no militia without approval. Much of the Kai’s role throughout history was simply as a religious and political leader, someone to help negotiate contracts with neighboring countries and serve as arbiter for clan disputes. Very little of that had changed. Much of the stipulations written in were indicative of the clan leaders’ fears of his attempts to overstep that traditional power. He suspected the ever-widening influence of the Oras inside the clans had caused the distrust more than anything else. If they believed he was Nasaka’s son and not his mother Javia’s… they had every right to fear how Nasaka would use him.

Liaro yawned and stretched in bed. The bed covers were a tangle. He had been out most of the night with Caisa and some of the younger novices and militia, helping with a joint bridge building project at the edge of Osono where a walking tree had smashed much of the bridge’s foundation. He spun a long, drunken tale about fencing with a tree the night before as Ahkio helped him into bed. Sometimes he wondered if he needed an assistant on hand just to care for Liaro.