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It was famously the most brutal of journeys, particularly if you wished to see the high oracles at the summit, with the path full of tests and trials and twists. It was only undertaken by heroes and conquerors and those facing the most momentous decisions.
“A fortnight is not enough time to prepare for the ceremonies,” Ms. Securia continued. “Not for the high oracles, anyhow. The rule of the wild applies in Vaticily. No beast may be put to burden in aid of a man. That means no steeds, no donkeys, no oxen, no horse of any kind. And no tourists, either—no supporting party to assist. Such sins weigh heavily on Vatic’s favor. Xiber must trek alone through gnarled paths and forests that fight back against navigation. And even then, there are arcane rituals and sacred rites which must be completed at the summit. If she wants to meet with the high oracles, the children of the god himself, then it is a moment of a lifetime. It is not something one rushes.”
“So, she is traveling for the next bronze moon?” said Teigra.
“Over a month? Just to climb a mountain and pray a bit?” said Jaspar.
“Only one who has not made the pilgrimage would be surprised at that, Mr. Accola.”
“You speak as though you have done it before, Ms. Securia?” said Teigra.
The high envoy glanced briefly at them, before returning to her far-off stare.
“All right then,” said Jaspar. “So, we have, what, five weeks? Then we have to plan. We should bang down the doors of the royals. Rally military aid before it’s too late.”
“We will do nothing of the sort!” snapped Ms. Securia.
“But we have to do something!” said Jaspar.
“Indeed we will. We must prepare for a siege. A long one. That is the only honorable path.”
“A siege?” said Jaspar. “Just wait quietly and face the Rinathi on our own? But Ardora can help us, Ms. Securia. We have the time to sign a compact. To apologize for Sama. To buy weaponry. To lay traps! We must—”
“What we must do is pay honor to our goddess, Mr. Accola. That is what your senate has demanded. We must show faith that Mesti’s reason will defeat Rina’s discord. We must suffer for her. We must endure for her. We must show our devotion. And when we can take no more, when we have shown the purity of our commitment, then and only then, she will come to our aid. After all, we already have a ruler who has insulted the goddess, squirming her child into the seedy business of military pacts. We will not make it worse by joining him!”
Jaspar scrunched his nose. “Aurelius? Is that what he’s been doing, here?”
Ms. Securia gave Jaspar nothing, and he turned instead to Teigra. She did her best to keep her face blank, but his betrayed expression showed that she’d failed.
“Oh... I didn’t know,” he whispered. “About any of this.”
Teigra turned away in shame.
She should have told him earlier. If Ms. Securia knew, then it was only right that he did as well. The high envoy already kept much from him and took all the credit for his work as well. And after all, he had been so good to her and had trusted her with so much.
And this is how I repay him?
“So... what are we to do?” he asked, his voice cracking a little.
“Mr. Accola, advise our friends across the polity of the news. All of them. Every smallholder. Every market stall owner in the city and beyond. Our envoys may be gone from the rest of the greater polity, but we still have our old contacts. Send word to the fruit wholesalers in Cherrystone. The bird rearers in Port Nikrizo. There is no point keeping this a secret—the Ondocians will get wind and spread it around. They always do. We must impress the urgency of our plight, but without placing any undue pressure. Am I understood? We are not calling in favors. We are not twisting arms. We must rely on our efforts over many years to speak for themselves, and hope that our friends make the right decisions. Any assistance which may be freely offered would be welcome—early access to food or materials or additional supplies being granted in time to fill Mestibes’s stores. Go! To work!”
Jaspar snapped to attention, clearly relieved to have direction.
“Remain here, Ms. Cosmin,” said Ms. Securia, as Teigra went to follow Jaspar out, hoping to apologize for keeping him in the dark on the herald’s actions. “And close the door.”
She did so, more in confusion than concern. The two of them looked at each other in silence.
Without averting her gaze, Ms. Securia placed another scroll on her desk. It was beautiful: the creamiest-looking parchment Teigra had ever seen. Kanilada Cream, she was sure, with edges glinting with gold. The red wax seal over top had already been broken, but she could just make out the top half of a letter “C”.
“This letter was handed to me yesterday morning by the royal courier,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “It appears that His Royal Highness wishes you to attend the Rose Rain Ball as his guest of honor.”
Teigra took a step back. There had to be some kind of mistake. The dinner they’d shared a week ago had given her a new perspective on the prince, but they hadn’t spoken a word since. Now he wanted her to stand alongside him, the future ruler of the city, in front of everyone’s gaze, at a royal ball?
“Me?” she spluttered.
“Yes.”
“As his date?”
