“And the political implications?”
“Enough to know everyone in this room is deciding how much truth can survive.”
That earned me the smallest adjustment around the table.
The elder watched me through narrowed eyes. “Please elaborate.”
I took one slow breath. “A dual bond isn’t the catastrophe. Dragon biology can accommodate more than one bond. Dragon politics is less flexible.”
The Norwegian liaison’s mouth tightened.
I had chosen the right branch.
“The rival-clan element is the problem,” I continued. “The last rival-clan bond ended in a war that shaped diplomatic policy for eighty years. Right now, twelve people in this room are deciding whether I’m a person they protect, a problem they contain, or a liability they make disappear before the rest of the world learns my name.”
Silence settled over the table. The deputy on Yuki’s left made arough sound in her throat. The eldest elder didn’t blink.
“You’re a translator?” she asked.
“I am.”
“A State Department translator.”
“That’s what the paperwork says.”
The elder still didn’t blink. Somewhere down the table, a glass was lifted. “And your résumé?”
“On file with the State Department, the Norwegian embassy, and, as of approximately ninety minutes ago, I assume, with this council.”
The silence that followed was different, sharper than the last, and I felt the room narrow around the sentence before the elder spoke again. “You choose your words with unusual care for a translator.”
“I’ve had a long week.”
She held my gaze through the answer, letting the silence stretch one beat past politeness. Her mouth set. She knew.
I did not look away. Holding the eye of a four-hundred-year-old dragon wasn’t something I had been trained to do. Neither was being bitten in front of an international press pool, so I was operating without a manual on several fronts.
The eldest elder turned to Yuki. “She understands the situation.”
“She does,” Yuki said.
“She’s lying about her role.”
“She is.”
“This is acceptable to you?”
Yuki’s gaze slid to me. “For now.”
Excellent. Always nice to be conditionally acceptable to ancient political leadership.
The eldest elder nodded once, then turned back to me. “Do you have questions?”
I had several. Most of them would get me contained, killed, or professionally reclassified as a very expensive inconvenience. I went with the least volatile.
“What’s the term bonded mate?”
The room tensed.
