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Before he can reply, I gesture toward the reinforced bunker doors carved into the palace foundations.

“Let’s get you underground. It’s quieter, and nobody can see us from the sky.”

I lead the unlikely trio, my guards flanking me as brick gives way to smooth concrete lit up by emergency lights. The alien’s eyes flick to every door, every junction, every guard.

We go through two checkpoints until we reach my meeting room.

The conference space is nothing more than a concrete box buried deep in the foundations of the palace. A steel table commands the center of the room, surrounded by a collection of mismatched chairs scavenged from the upper floors. Pinned to one wall is a map of the Isles with red string connecting my remaining strongholds. A water jug sweats on the metal surface next to a kettle whistling on a corner hot plate.

I drop into the head chair and the backrest gives a rusty squeak, then I gesture to the empty seats.

“Sit. Tea?”

Tara gasps, one hand pressed to her chest. “Real tea?”

I smirk at her. “Don’t ask what it cost.”

She lets out a breathless chuckle. “Oh my God. Yes. Please.”

I rather like this woman.

Kairen murmurs a few vibrating syllables to the little white machine.

“His Highness thanks you but takes nourishment from his own ship,” the little robot translates.

I pour steaming water over a rare bag of Earl Grey into a chipped mug. “Quite right. I wouldn’t trust my kitchen either.”

I slide the cup across the table. Tara wraps both hands around the ceramic, her eyes fluttering shut as she breathes in the fragrant steam. Some of the tension leaves her shoulders.

Kairen takes the seat beside her, and the mech scrambles onto the chair on her other side, its metallic claws clicking against the plastic.

I address no one in particular. “Besson’s buoys said you’re offering something. Let’s hear it.”

“Nano robots,” Kiko chirps. “Self-replicating. Once inside you, they allow you to understand Avaren speech.”

I lean forward, lacing my fingers together over the table. “And what else do they do?”

Would they report on me, divulge my secrets?

Kairen speaks briefly in his native tongue.

“Other functions will remain dormant,” Kiko relays. “They will merely stimulate the language comprehension center in your brain.”

I narrow my eyes at them. “Only that?”

“Yes,” the little robot replies.

Steepling my fingers on the table, I sweep my gaze over them, locking eyes with each one, even Kiko’s lenses. Habit. “I’d like that in writing.”

“I do not have a writing function,” the mech says, sounding terribly dismayed.

Tara stares down into her tea, the corners of her mouth twitching. “He means yes.”

I weigh the risk. I analyze the towering alien prince and the human woman who clearly trusts him with her life. I look at my guards flanking the reinforced doors, their knuckles white around their rifles. Then I trace the red string on the wall map with my eyes. We are losing this war. I need alliances far more than I need paranoia.

“Fine,” I concede, and Tara tells me to put my hand on the table. Despite everything I went through since the invasion, I find myself nervous.

Kairen extends his hand. I hesitate for a microsecond. Giving an alien microscopic access to my bloodstream is exactly how specimens end up on dissection tables. But refusing outright signals a secret worth hiding.