Tugging his hair, she cut in, “Listen. I will swear an oath to you. My promise to you and to the Giver. When the Numrek and the Auldek are dealt with, we’ll make a child together. I swear it. But, Melio, I can’t not fight if we are to have war. It’s the only gift I really have to offer. It’s what I’m good at. I’m Maeben on earth. I can’t pretend otherwise.”

“It’s not the only thing you have to offer,” Melio began, but did not explain further. He considered her skeptically for a moment. “Make children together. Not just one. We have years of delay to make up for.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She pulled him closer and pressed her cheek against his collarbone. He let her stay like that a moment, but then pulled back.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Do you swear by Maeben as well?”

“Yes.” And saying so she realized she did mean it. She was going to fight like she never had before. She was going to give everything she had, because the dream she had conjured of a peaceful life remained a thing to fight for. Just one more war. Just one, and surely the Giver would let her rest. “You are my Vaharinda,” she said. “You will give me many children, enough to people the world.”

He finally released the wonder that was his smile. All the components of his face shifted into joyful arrangement. “Okay, Mena,” he said, “I just hope you get to keep this promise.”

So do I, she thought, moving her mouth to meet his. So do I.

C HAPTER
F ORTY-THREE

A fine morning a week after all the chaos with the Numrek, Delivegu walked past the Marah guarding the entrance to the queen’s compound, his chin raised, haughty and disdainful of their fixed stares. He quite enjoyed it. How quickly the talented rise. When he reached Rhrenna’s offices in the anteroom, however, he made himself more personable. “Secretary,” he said, showing his perfect teeth, “I have need of an audience with the queen.”

“I know,” Rhrenna said. “You told me as much. That’s why I gave permission for you to come this far. I’ll need to know why you wish to speak to her before you go any farther.”

Why indeed, Delivegu thought, smiling. Why indeed? “Oh, it’s a small thing, but I think she’d like to know it.”

Delivegu’s recent capture of Barad the Lesser had won him more than a few privileges. He now, officially, had a post in Rialus Neptos’s staff. It would have annoyed him if Neptos—ratlike creature that he was—had actually been around, but he was away indefinitely, if not dead. Corinn kept her plans so close to her lovely chest that very little came through the offices of the councillor. What little did, the upper-level staff seemed intent on keeping from him. The first days in his post he took to calling himself—privately, of course—”Acting Chancellor Delivegu Lemardine.” Time would remove the “Acting,” and then, finally, all would be right in the world. Perhaps he would eventually achieve “Chancellor and Queen’s Consort Delivegu Lemardine, he of the mighty erection.” That last part was true, of course, and the rest … Well, one could always dream.