As the night deepened and the wine flowed, Somadina rose and crossed to where Altansarnai lounged among his cushions.
"General."His voice was smooth."Enjoy the night.Rest well.The corpse will be delivered to your tent by morning."
Altansarnai nodded, already half-drunk, his hand still resting on Azul's knee.
Somadina looked at her.Something passed between them—an apology, perhaps.Then he turned and walked away.
Azul moved to follow.
"Not you."
Somadina's voice stopped her at the edge of the cushions.She turned, confusion flickering across her features.
"My lord?"
Somadina looked at her.
She held his gaze.She never looked away first.Even now.
He told himself this was strategy.That the alliance required gestures of good faith, that Altansarnai needed to believe the Borjigin were generous hosts, and that one night was a small price against the survival of a city.He had rehearsed the logic until it felt clean.
He only felt a deep, unbearable disgust.
He knew what he was in this moment.
He turned away because he couldn't hold it.
For once, her eyes were too much for him to bear.
"Stay with the general.Entertain him."His voice was flat, the voice of a man delivering orders he hated."If he finds you...favourable...it will improve our negotiations tomorrow."
"My lord."Her stoicism cracked with shock."You can't mean—"
“Do this for me.For the city."
She stared at him.
"No."The word came out before she could stop it.
A bad habit.
Somadina's face hardened.
“What did you say?”
“No.”She had no interest in entertaining his tomfoolery past what was necessary.Why did she need to sleep in another man’s bed?
She had miscalculated.Not Somadina—she knew Somadina.She had always known what he was capable of.What she had failed to account for was how little he had left.A man with an army, a throne, and options would never have done this.A man with nothing but a crumbling city and an enemy general who needed appeasing—that man would spend anything he had left to spend.Even her.
She had assumed his obsession would protect her from this particular cost.She had been wrong.His obsession was precisely why he could do it—because she wasn't a person to be protected; she was a resource to be allocated, and the part of him that wanted her rage and her attention and her contempt had been overruled by the part of him that needed to survive the morning.
"Guards!"
They appeared at her sides before she could move.Hands gripped her arms.A cloth pressed over her mouth and nose.
She fought violently, kicking and writhing in hopes they would let her go.But the drug pulled her under.
The bonfire was lit exactly an hour before dawn.
