Oh. Vivia’s shoulders tensed higher. Her magic keened higher too, and though she couldn’t see it, she felt the water in the fishpond riffle and groove. She had not expected the Doge to invoke her mother’s name. Nor had she expected the subtle slight. “Your Highness” instead of “Your Majesty.”

To this imperial leader, Vivia was no queen. To him, she was still just a princess—one who now drowned in the silence and the heat and the weight of jasmine clogging up her nose. The water riffled faster.

“You know why we have come,” Vaness said, cutting through the moment with the ease of sharpened steel. “And we will not waste your time nor ours with useless pleasantries.” She waved a hand toward the guards and servants. “Out. All of you.”

When none of them obeyed, her nostrils flared. The iron bracelets at her wrists slithered like baby cobras. Yet only when the Doge gave a casual flick of his fingers did the soldiers and attendants finally march into the garden.

The insult was clear, and before the Doge could open his tiny, fluttering mouth, Vivia knew what he would say. “I am afraid the Dalmotti Empire cannot help you.” He blinked behind his spectacles; Vaness’s bracelets writhed faster. “I have spoken with the Guildmasters, and we are all in agreement: we simply do not possess the resources you require.”

Lies, Vivia thought. This palace alone could more than fund what Vivia and Vaness wanted. Why, even two of those blighted glass panels would probably fund it.

“We will continue to house and protect you, of course, though you need not remain on your ship. In fact, I insist you join me in the palace as guests.” The Doge smiled, a simpering thing. “Claiming any thrones, however, must wait until the fighting concludes.”

“Until the fighting concludes,” Vaness repeated, and Vivia could practically hear her internal screams.

Her own screams were at approximately the same pitch. In fact, all her discomfort had washed away beneath the power of those screams, building in her belly. A rage she so rarely felt—much less let loose.

Her fingers stretched against her pant legs. If Vaness could remain calm, then she could too.

“You,” Vaness said softly, “are a disappointment, Doge. You turn down our offer and then lack even the decency to explain the truth.”

“The truth?” His fingers steepled.

“You could have had an alliance with the Marstoki Empire and Nubrevna.” Iron snaked up and down her arms, betraying her feelings even as her face did not. “Such power is not something you will come by on your own—nor something you will be able to forge. Right now, our people are your enemy.”