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“My word?” Ren asked, moving his hand in mimicry of hers. “If I promisereallyhardthat I don’t want this fucked-up ice block of yours, assuming the Mazekhstani throne is as uncomfortable as these chairs and will only serve to make my ass flat, will that be enough?”
She fixed him with an unimpressed stare.
“For fuck’s sake, Panarina,” he snapped, his voice losing its playfulness. “We’re talking abouttens of thousandsof Quarehian lives here, not to mention those of your people dying on the border. That’s more important than your insecurities.”
“Security and stability is vital, Aratorre. Agood rulerwould know that.”
I glared at the map laid out before us, not liking my words to be used that way. “A promise could work.”
“Nathanael, he was being sarcastic-”
“I’m aware,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea. You wanted all of Riehse Eshan in on this, right?” I nodded over at my brother. “So make it a whole-of-continent treaty. The north helps the south, and each of the three countries pledges to support the current monarchies against any threats moving forward, whether from foreigners or local rebellions. Any one of you breaches that, and the others have the right to sanction them.”
“Sanction,” Ren echoed suggestively, suddenly sporting a vicious grin. “Let’s make it a good hard spanking and hope Temar is the first to fuck up, hmm?” He turned his sadistically gleeful expression onto Valeri and brought his palm down hard on his own thigh, the sound of the echoing smack sending an involuntary shiver running up my spine.
“Keep him in line, Nat,” my brother said sourly, his hands clenching into fists. Ah, five minutes after reuniting with Ren and the man was already at risk of committing murder.
“I doubt I could if I wanted to,” I retorted. “You know Ren does what he likes.”
As if in confirmation, my prince jokingly slapped his leg again, making Val’s scowl deepen. I felt my face flush with heat.
Ren happened to glance over at me then, instantly noticing my discomfort and dragging his eyes down to where I was squirming on my chair. His face lit up.
No,I mouthed at him as he raised his hand again with wicked anticipation. He shook his head at me pityingly, clearly having no intention of listening andeveryintention of embarrassing me in front of my brother and friend by getting me all worked up with nothing more than the movement of his Blessed hand.
“But I will remind His Highness of Quareh,” I gritted out, “that the future of his country may rest on this discussion. In such circumstances, one would consider it a wise idea not to antagonise the other participants.”
There was a moment of expectant silence.
And then Ren sighed, uncrossing his ankles and pulling them off the table so he could sit straight in his chair.
“It’s lucky you’re such a phenomenal lay,” he said casually, evidently not quite done taunting us, and Astrid huffed out an irritated breath that was matched – and outdone – by Valeri’s.
“And it’s extremelyunluckythat you don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘antagonise’,” I told him, finding it easier to breathe when I wasn’t looking his way.
“Perhaps we should start by agreeing on the language in which to have these discussions,” Val offered smoothly, and I shot him a grateful look. “Considering we’ve changed tongues a dozen times since we sat down.”
“Aren’t we all just going to suggest our own?” Astrid asked. The men shrugged.
“So let Nat act as tiebreaker,” Ren suggested brightly, followed by consenting murmurs from the other two, and fuck me,that’swhat they chose to agree on?
I froze, glancing between each of them. My lover, my brother, my friend. Whatever I decided would probably lead to insult with the other two, but I didn’t speak any non-continental languages such as Onnish or Lukian well enough to suggest a fourth, more neutral option.
“Mazekhstani,” I said, refusing to sound apologetic when they’d all put me in this damn situation to begin with. “Seeing as that is where we find ourselves.”
Astrid looked pleased. Valeri nodded briskly.
And Ren gave me an easy smile, not an ounce of condemnation or disappointment in his gaze as he looked over at me adoringly. “Perfect.”
And he gave every indication that it was. If Valeri or Astrid had hoped that forcing him to speak a foreign tongue would reduce his innuendoes, they’d thought wrong. Ren knew all the double meanings of Mazekhstani words – many of which I’d taught him – and even Val struggled to keep up with some of his backhanded compliments and implications, though the language had a similar sentence structure to Temarian. But it wasn’t all jokes: the three of them veered dangerously close to causing serious political offence several times as they navigated the potential terms of the tri-country treaty I’d proposed, fiercely campaigning for the rights of their own peoples. An argument about the haste at which sanctions would be applied occupied the discussion for over two hours, and I found myself frequently acting as mediator when they reached what would otherwise have been an impasse.
Ren showed no signs of exhaustion even when the other two began to flag in the early evening, despite not only having had to keep up with the negotiations in a language other than his own, but also applying his usual manipulations throughout the whole thing. It was nothing particularly nefarious. Just whining and grouching, interspersed with expectant grins that broadcasted what he was thinking...or allegedly thinking. I may have fooled the Quarehian court for months into believing me Mathias Grachyov, but that had been largely due to a misunderstanding on their part and a tendency not to correct them on mine.Thiswas pure political guile, as Ren played at being easy to read while seamlessly hiding his true thoughts behind the exaggerated actions. Whether they realised what he was doing or not, Val and Astrid showed their own hands, relaxing their hold on their emotions as they responded to his wails of complaint or eager bouncing in his seat with unguarded reactions in turn. I could practically feel the smugness radiating off Ren as he soaked in both the information they were inadvertently gifting him and the satisfaction of a worthy performance.
“So,” Ren said finally, rapping his knuckles on the map where Máros was drawn. “Now that we’ve agreed youcanhelp me, what’s your answer to whether you will?”
Astrid tilted her head, flyaway strands of hair finally starting to betray her otherwise composed appearance.
“You want me to force my army through the border lines and march on your capital,” she said bluntly, “so that you can bully your way back to your crown?”
