The Ambassador rested his aching head in his hands. Three hours closeted with the Trade Ministers — staring down that smirking Leofrick's face — while they presented endless reasons why they should be allowed to carve even larger roads to the Trade Routes in each district. Every suggestion that the land wasn't free to claim was met by more arguments. It left his mind chasing down myriad potential solutions that all ended in the same thing — a dead end.
A yip brought him both out of his thoughts and up from his pose, and his polite mask fell into a heartfelt, if weary, smile.
A black pup tumbled across the worn rug, chasing a well-chewed ball. With a groan, he eased to the floor in front of his chair and extended his fingers. Yipping, the pup licked and nipped the fingers before lunging after the ball once more.
"It's been two years." The Regent stood next to the window and stared unseeing into the distance.
The Ambassador sighed and scooped up the pup, resting his lips in the softest fur.
"The TNR program — it's been repurposed. We don't do that anymore."
"Not openly." Spinning away from the window, the Regent snatched the pup away and cradled the scrap of life to her breast. "But no one knows. We're not safe."
"The Messenger Guild agreed to spread the word if anything happens to you. Fickle though the Butterflies can be, I trust them in this. Dukes says—"
"Demons take what Dukes says!" The Regent's eyes glowed silver, and the Ambassador's heart caught in his throat. He looked away.
After a tense silence, he whispered, "I can't lose you."
The Regent sobbed once and knelt beside him.
"Don't you see? If you don't show them — if you don't risk us — you won't really have us."
He pulled them into his arms, and the pup squirmed free to pounce on the ball again.
"You've always seen clearest, my heart." He swallowed and eased back. "What do you suggest?"
"The Central Clans, and the Eastern, were —" She choked.
"Decimated." He rubbed her arm. "But?"
She swallowed and nodded.
"The Western Clans retreated to the mountains."
"They'd never trust us. After what we did?" He rubbed his stomach.
"You've been neglecting your pills, love." The Regent rose and fetched the bottle, mock-scowling as the Ambassador dry-swallowed two.
With a grin, he collected an upturned cup from the side table, righted it, and sipped.
"Show off." She smirked, stealing the cup and draining the water he'd summoned. Smile fading, she sank back to the floor, collecting his hand and twining their fingers. "They'll trust me. They'll trust her."
The pup tumbled after the ball, careless of the conversation around her.
"No!" The Ambassador shoved to his feet and paced along a threadbare path in the rug's weave.
The Regent watched. Only her eyes followed him.
"Without the Clans' support, we cannot persuade the people. Without the Clan's support, your daughter will live in fear her whole life."
The Ambassador's steps slowed like clockwork winding down. He stopped beside the pup.
"Both of you?" His voice was broken and exhausted, and the Regent rose to wrap her arms around him from behind. He caressed the ornate bracelet, testing the crys-com by habit.
"They must know there's hope."
He bowed his head, nodding slowly.
"You can't go alone. Dukes will prepare a team."
The Regent chuckled and pressed a kiss to the Ambassador's shirt-clad shoulder blade.
"And I'll tighten the protections." His fingers locked around the crys-com. "My shields aren't the strongest. Maybe I could get Smasher…"