“Indeed.” He sat back down. “Domenic tells me you are dedicated to avoiding war. And that is desirable at the moment. Prince Ruven has warned me that while Vaskandar can provide us with some protection, it cannot yet shield us from the full might of the Empire. How much can we demand before Raverra will balk? Can we press our advantage to eliminate the Raverran trade privileges choking our own Ardentine merchants? Keep our mage-marked rather than surrendering them to the Falconers? What is the line we cannot cross?”

Gabril’s perceptions were so far from reality I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “How aware are you of the current state of negotiations between Ardence and Raverra?”

“More aware than most.” He leaned in toward me. “Our friend in the River Palace tells me the doge has given my cousin a time limit, which he’s too afraid to tell even the Council of Lords.”

I stared, nonplussed. “If you know that …”

“Why am I still seeking confrontation?” He chuckled. “Because our Raverran friend tells me it’s a bluff. The Empire doesn’t dare attack one of its own cities, especially with Vaskandar poking at its borders. Once we prove to everyone their threats are hollow, then we can begin the real negotiations.”

I tried to keep my expression neutral. If his Raverran friend was still telling him things, it couldn’t be Leodra. “You ask how much you can push,” I said carefully. “I would suggest the more critical question is when.”

He set his chin on his hands. “Oh?”

“If you press too hard before the time limit runs out, you risk putting the doge in a position where he has to enforce it.” Never mind that Ardence had crossed that line long ago. I’d buy time however I could. “If you wait until afterward, you can see how he responds. That in itself should give you a clear idea of who holds what cards at this table.”

If Gabril were a Raverran, he would have read a warning in my words. But he was an Ardentine. He nodded with apparent enthusiasm. “That makes sense. The Grace of Wisdom has truly blessed your family, Amalia Cornaro. I am fortunate to count you among my friends.”

Guilt pinched my gut. I was still unsure what the sides were in this conflicted mess, but I was fairly certain Gabril and I were on different ones.

Domenic took me aside soon after I returned to the party from Gabril’s study. Zaira lounged on a divan across the room, telling some salacious story that had all the people around her laughing.

“Amalia, can I ask what he talked to you about?”

“You can, but I don’t think he said anything secret, merely expressed opinions with which he knew you would disagree. He seems bent on direct confrontation. He doesn’t have a very realistic perspective, I fear.”