When Somadina entered, he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening for a moment—a moment that lasted a beat too long—he cleared his throat and glanced away.
"You did well," he said."The message has been sent.He'll come."
Azul said nothing.
"One way or another," he said quietly, "I will have Ragnar Valthorne.Altansarnai has agreed.We will work together to defeat him."
He reached into his robes and withdrew a small vial—dark glass, sealed with wax."If you sedate him and bring him to us alive, I will keep him as a prisoner rather than killing him on the battlefield."He held it out.
Azul looked at the vial but did not take it.
"If you fail," Chukwuemeka said softly, "we all die.You.Me.Nkiru."He paused."Kamsi."
Something flickered in Azul's eyes.
"Yes," he murmured."Your sister.She's safe, for now.She'll stay safe as long as you cooperate."
A lie, but Azul need not know that.
He pressed the vial into her hand.Her fingers closed around it automatically.
He rose to leave her room but paused at the threshold.
"The archers are in the trees," he said without looking back."If he tries to leave or fight, they'll kill him.The only way he survives tonight is if you do exactly what I've told you."
Azul sat alone in the shrine, the vial warm in her palm, the goblet waiting on the table before her.Through the open walls, she could see the trees, the shadows, and the faint glint of moonlight on arrowheads.
She poured the vial into the wine.
Her hands were shaking.She watched her hands tremble and took a deep breath.
You came.
Azul watched him walk through the courtyard, tall and dark against the moonlight, his mask in place, his stride steady and unhurried.He moved like a man who had never known fear, who had never considered the possibility that walking into a trap might be the last thing he ever did.
Her heart sank.
Even through the mask, she could see his eyes, his eyes looking at her with sorrow.
He had read her message and come anyway.He had known it might be a trap and come anyway.He had trusted her—trusted her—and she had led him here, to this moment, to this table, to this wine.
He sat across from her.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"You came," she said finally.
"You asked me to."
"Why are you alone?"Her voice was small.
"Because you asked for just me, Khatun."
Don’t call me that.She wanted to scream at him, but she bit her tongue.
“Khatun, look at me.”
Her throat closed.She forced herself to look at him.At his eyes.At the trust there, the faith, the utter certainty that she was worth this risk.
