They both sat. Florian moved to the far end next to the eldest girl, while Kade stayed on the open side, sitting alongside the queen and two youngest daughters. Kade caught his eye briefly as they settled in across from each other, offering him a quick, small smile of reassurance.
Before Florian could speak again, a dish was placed before each of them in turn: a small bowl of cloudy soup, with thin slices of mushroom and chunks of tofu. Tetsuo was the first to eat, lifting the bowl to his mouth and taking a long drink; Florian watched the rest of the royal family do the same, then he too took a drink of the broth. It tasted like miso soup, he thought, but more gingery and with something earthier to it he couldn’t quite place.
“I was unaware Jerah had a son,” Tetsuo said abruptly, nearly making Florian choke on his soup. “Though if I recall, he had a daughter at one point. We never heard much of Violet after Inessa died.”
A cold shock washed over Florian’s face. He had not heard that name in a long, long time.
“Well,” he said slowly, clearing his throat. Kade was glancing between Tetsuo and Florian with an expression that was quickly becoming recognizable to Florian as one of anger. “I am their son. And my name is Florian.” He hesitated, then added, “I don’t know if the rumors reach you all the way here, but I’m a Changeling.”
For a long moment, there was no answer to him. Tetsuo met his gaze with an expression that was unmoving and unreadable. Daichi had a similar look on his face; Koji, the younger son, now watched him with growing curiosity. The queen and their daughters glanced between him and Tetsuo, as if uncertain how the conversation would proceed.
“I see,” Tetsuo finally said. “I understand. King Florian. Why have you come all this way? What do you want from us?”
The abrupt change and all the mixed, uncomfortable feelings of hearing his deadname spoken so casually made him so flustered that for a moment he had no idea how to answer the king. He took the goblet filled with plum wine that had been placed in front of him and took a long, deep gulp.
“We need help,” Florian finally answered. “Before he died, my father was training me to find the seven Golden Arrows of Soleil. I intend to see his plan through to the end. There are two Arrows in the Blight not far from the dragon kingdom. I would... request whatever assistance you can spare us, to help us safely retrieve them.”
A hint of something crossed Tetsuo’s face, but it was gone before Florian could scrutinize him. Despite his stoicism, though, Florian knew Tetsuo had never been fond of Jerah, and he could still feel his distaste even through his carefully neutral veneer.
“I will give you the benefit of the doubt here, King Florian,” he replied, his voice somehow colder than it had been before. “Your father had approached me about a similar plan in the past. I refused then. I am sorry to have to do the same to you now. But my priority always has been and always will be to keep my people safe. I do not have resources to spare for some impossible dream.”
“It’s not impossible,” Florian interrupted. Tetsuo’s nostrils flared. Daichi, still silent, turned to stare at Florian as if he’d somehow grown a second head. “We already have two.”
The table fell silent again, this time with obvious shock. Tetsuo’s eyebrows furrowed, and Florian got the distinct sense that the king was unsure if Florian was telling the truth. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and his hands felt cold and clammy with sweat; but he willed himself to keep meeting the older man’s gaze, hoping his own conviction was obvious in his face.
“We would not ask you to do anything we would be unwilling to ask of our own kingdoms,” Florian offered when Tetsuo did not respond. “Even if it’s just some supplies, or a place to stay between trips into the Blight... Anything would help.”
To his surprise, the dragon king’s expression only hardened at that.
“I can assure you, King Florian, we have nothing to spare you,” he replied curtly. “Two more mouths to feed for a day or two is manageable. Two more mouths to feed for an indefinite length of time is taking food from the mouths of my own citizens. Perhaps the situation in the Winter Court is not so dire. I would not know. But in the dragon kingdom, we must maintain a careful balance of production to ensure no one goes without and the work remains manageable for everyone. I will not take from the hands of my citizens to help you on what is still most certainly a fool’s errand.”
Florian frowned, anger surging hot through his veins. “But what we’re trying to do will benefiteverybody. Our kingdoms and yours. If the Blight was gone, you would have more room to grow food, could establish trade again with other kingdoms—”
“Other kingdoms that would be half a world away, even without the Blight,” Tetsuo snapped. “And the truth is that the Nova Blight is here. All we can do is adapt to it, and try to live with it. I commend you for your optimism, King Florian, but I do not share it. The chances of you succeeding in this insane task are so slim that to devote any resources to it is, frankly, idiotic. My obligations are to my kingdom. We do not have enough to help you with your own.”
“We aren’t asking for much,” Florian protested. “I’m not asking you to send people in with us, even if that would help. Just a place to stay, a base of operations while we’re nearby—anything.”
The second course was set out, and the soup taken away as they spoke, but Florian barely registered the different dish sitting in front of him. Tetsuo still regarded him coldly, his own food ignored as well.
“You may not think it is much,” the dragon king said. “But when we have so little, everything must be accounted for.”
“You really couldn’t spare us even a room to sleep in?”
“Is that not what you’re receiving from me already? Our guest rooms, food from our banquet table?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Florian said, but he could already feel Tetsuo’s attitude shifting permanently. “Of course we appreciate this, and the room. We’re not asking for this every day indefinitely. Just—whatever assistance youcangive us. We want to do this to benefit everyone, including the dragon kingdom. Please. Just help us help you.”
But the king was obviously unconvinced; his eyes finally fell away from Florian, dropping to observe the dish of herb-scented rice in front of him. He took a leisurely bite in silence, then a drink of his own plum wine, before looking back over at Florian who still watched him desperately. How could the man be so short-sighted? How could he be so obsessed with the well-being of his people that he couldn’t see the solution that was right in front of him?
“Your mission helps no one but your own egos,” Tetsuo finally said. His tone was even and calm, but somehow Florian could sense malice behind his words, a silent history of whatever had happened between him and Jerah on the same subject a lifetime ago. “For tonight, you are our guests, and are welcome to our food and lodgings. We will provide you breakfast tomorrow, and then I must insist you continue on your way. Where you go after this is of no concern to me. Stay in our realm as long as you’d like, but remain outside the walls of the city.”
“But, Father,” the oldest daughter interrupted, speaking for the first time. Daichi, the eldest son, looked at her with anger flashing in his eyes; but it was the younger son, Koji, who held a hand out between them. The girl hesitated, then continued resolutely, “Don’t you always say it’s better to work together? That what we can do as a team is beyond what anyone can do alone?”
Tetsuo sighed, somehow looking more affected by these few words from his daughter than all of Florian’s pleading. “It is more complicated than that, Haruko. That only applies when what you’re trying to accomplish is actually possible.”
“But he said he already has two Arrows. So itispossible to get more,” she protested.
“Haruko,” Koji said softly.
