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Baris turned his head slowly to face her with his front eyes. “You are not wrong.”
“Fantastic.” Well, at least she didn’t have to try to be polite. “Tell me you’re seeing a doctor about all of this.” She waved a hand in his direction.
“My medic tells me to rest.”
But he wasn’t resting. He was throwing parties and entertaining ambassadors.
“Oh, you’re one of those, the kind of patient who doesn’t listen,” she said, unimpressed.
“I listen.”
“But you’re not resting. This is not resting.” Now, she waved to the atrium and the party below.
“My aide organized it.”
“Sure, and the caterers did the cooking, but you’re still on your feet, making nice and smiling and being, I don’t know, regal, and none of that is resting.”
The king’s reply came with a cold delivery. “You sound like Harol.”
“Harol sounds like someone I’d like to meet.”
Baris huffed; the noise almost sounded like amusement. “I will rest after the trade negotiations.”
“They’re that important? Worth your health?”
“Yes. You do not know our history, but internal conflict has eroded our trade networks. War is good for warmongers and few others. Trade routes are unprotected. Merchant vessels are unwilling to take the journey with so much risk.” Baris expounded on the rise of piracy and the strain to protect trade routes. So many resources had been poured into installations like the station they were on, but that only benefited the military. The average person was left with crumbling infrastructure and increasing lawlessness.
Lenore nodded. She wasn’t the biggest history buff; she read a few gothic novels that took place in seventeenth-century England. Civil war and general chaos in the government allowed outlaws and highway robbers to flourish. She followed most of what he said, but mostly, she admired his enthusiasm. He cared deeply about trade networks and cost-to-risk ratios. He’d probably wax poetic about import taxes soon.
“Forgive me. This must be tedious,” he said.
“No. It’s interesting.” Well, that might have been a stretch, but he was certainly enthused by it. “Would the increase in traffic offset the loss of revenue from reducing import taxes? It seems like a gamble, spending a lot of money upfront on what might pay off.”
He stood a little straighter, as if surprised by her question. “It is a risk. There is wear and tear on facilities, the salaries of staff to operate stations and ports to consider, but there is no profit to be made with no trade, which is what we have now.”
Got it. Something was better than nothing.
“And how does tonight’s sendoff fit into your plans to impress the ambassador?” she asked.
“A gross display of wealth for no other reason than goodwill,” he said smoothly. “I spent a great deal of the treasury on Khargal tech.”
She nearly laughed out loud.
“I am a very benevolent monarch,” he continued, amusement creeping into his voice.
“No doubt. Although, now that I think about it, building a portal to send us humans home is probably cheaper in the long run than supporting us for years.” She couldn’t imagine the bill for supporting all the rescued people. If throwing a party in a fit of conspicuous consumption to impress a bigwig meant he got something in return, she couldn’t fault him.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment of her statement. “Humans are expensive.”
The awkward tension eased for a moment, and Lenore was transported back to that moment when an alien asked for her trust without using any words at all.
This was nice. Where had this guy been the entire time she was here?
He cleared his throat, glanced away, and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “Do you anticipate tomorrow?”
“I’m excited to go back home,” she said honestly. Then added, “I know it won’t be the same. I won’t be able to pick up where I left off.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She would finish her residency, that wasn’t a question, but she’d transfer somewhere else. She refused to work in the same place as her ex. “Sorry. You don’t care.”
A server appeared with a tray of drinks. Baris reached for one with his right hand and grimaced, quickly jerking his hand back. The leather glove hid the amputation scar but did not disguise the fact that his thumb was gone. Using his left hand, he offered the glass to Lenore.
