“But I see the sense in sending Nemesia to Velmara,” she says, finally meeting my eyes with a look of open vulnerability. Relief courses through me. “We should ask Mazus to agree to pay more for Velmara’s imports of thayar,” Laurel continues. “We know that our supply is going to decrease soon. With decreased supply, we’ll have no choice but to raise prices to keep our revenue stable. That could signal to the other rulers that something’s amiss. If Mazus pays more now, it will cover the shortfall in revenue and keep our secret longer.”

I’m delighted but not surprised by Laurel’s line of thinking.

“If Mazus knows about the declining thayar already,” I add, following Laurel’s logic, “he’ll have to agree to this, because he knows that prices will go up inevitably once our supply runs low. His kingdom relies so heavily on thayar imports for their trade across the Nivan Desert, he can’t afford to let Thayaria send future limited supplies to the highest bidder. This lets him secure the flower and might tell us what information he has.”

Admon sits thoughtfully, looking between the two of us. “It’s a good plan. If Mazus agrees readily, we’ll also know how desperate he is to send his son to Thayaria. We won’t know why, but we’ll have more information regarding his intentions.”

Mazus and his decrepit advisors whisper in a corner as we enter the chambers, returning to their seats when they spot us. Mazus gazes coldly at Laurel, then asks, “So, what have you decided to ask for? I confess we’re not eager to make the first move. We’ve agreed to give you access to the archives. That feels sufficient to us.”

Laurel stands, every inch the powerful and confident Queen I’ve seen her become over the last three hundred years, so different from the female I had to peel from the ground during the Battle of Moormyr. Her shoulders are set, back straight, eyes hard with resolve. She gives Mazus a haughty look that scares even me, so unused to this version of her.

“Let me remind you that you are the one who seeks this arrangement,” she says, and the room quivers. “I am perfectly content to leave things as they are. Nevertheless, in addition to access to the archives, should you wish to burden me with your incompetent and imprudent son, you’re going to have to pay me for it. I want a thirty percent increase on the export tax you pay for thayar flowers. In exchange, Thayaria will source our grain exclusively from Velmara.”