This time she did give him leave to speak. Words failed him, though. She was not wrong. There was discontent out there. He had felt it thinly veiled behind men’s eyes. Even as he worked to help the people, he knew they did not accept him or his work as completely as he wished.

“And know this,” the queen said. “I will not drug them as we did before. It won’t be the same, Dariel. I promise that.”

Do you promise it won’t be worse? Dariel thought. In new ways?

Corinn stood up, smoothed her gown, and waited for Dariel to rise. When he did, she extended her arms, palms down but fingers reaching to clasp his. “Go to them, brother, and do not fail to assuage them and negotiate a continuation of the peace. Without it, we are truly in jeopardy. We are blameless. All you have to do is convince them of that and then charm them.”

Dariel took a moment to respond. Part of him wanted to refuse her, but that was not easily done. And surely he could be a better emissary than anyone else she might send. Perhaps, in seeing the Lothan Aklun and Auldek in the flesh, he would learn things about them and find ways to alter the nature of their trade. She wished him to go for her reasons, but perhaps he could find a way to trade in something other than quota and mist. She wouldn’t fault him for that—not if he brought a new arrangement to her that would replace the old. Perhaps this was a first step toward that. He tried to believe he heard these possibilities behind her words, but something kept him from mentioning them directly.

“When will I leave?” he asked, surprised that the first thing he uttered indicated acceptance of the mission.

“You sail with Sire Neen in two days’ time. He began preparations as soon as he knew of your safe arrival here. Take no distractions with you. Understand? Wren does not go with you.” Dariel must have registered his disappointment on his face, though he was not aware of doing so. “Very little of what falls on us as leaders is easy. You know that. Much of it challenges us. I’ve no doubt you won’t love your time with Sire Neen, but for now we have no choice but to stay allied with the league.”

For a moment, Dariel felt himself a boy again, as confused and helpless as when his guardian spirited him from Kidnaban and into years of hiding. This, in turn, made him think of Val, his protector during those years, as much his father as Leodan. “Is this the real Corinn?” he asked, measuring his voice to keep it even. “You’ll send me off again before I’ve even caught my breath? You’re a hard taskmaster, Sister.”

Corinn found something about this amusing. A smile played across her lips and vanished only when she spoke. “I have to be, Brother. I am queen.”