I reached out, caressed his cheek, heard the murmurs at the unexpected display of affection, then I pushed back my chair and stood on it. The tables that had been added to accommodate the additional elders and quarterlords at the meal reached to the end of the hall. By standing on the chair, I made certain they could all see and hear me. Hold my tongue, indeed.

“My brethren,” I called out, my voice loud and overflowing with all the grand flourishes that would please the Komizar. “Today’s a great day for me, and I hope when I share my news, you’ll agree it’s a great day for us all. I owe you all much. You’ve given me a home. I’ve been welcomed by you, shared your cups of thannis, been warmed by your fires, your handshakes, and your hopes. The clothes that adorn my back have come from you too. I’ve received more than I have given, but now I hope to repay your kindnesses. Today the Komizar has asked me to—” I deliberately paused, drawing out the moment, and watched them lean forward, sit taller, their mouths hanging open, breaths held, drinks poised, eyes riveted. I paused just long enough that the Komizar saw and understood that he was not the only one who knew how to command a room, and finally, when even he edged forward in his seat just a bit, I spoke again. “Today your Komizar has asked me to stand by his side, to be his wife and queen, but I come to you first, because before I answer him, I must know that you think my place here will serve Venda. So I ask, what say you, elders, lords, brothers, and sisters? Shall I accept the Komizar’s proposal? Yea or nay?”

A breathless hush filled the hall, and then a deafening Yea! Yea! Fists lifted to the air; hands pounded on tables; feet stomped the floor; tankards sloshed and spilled in toasts. I jumped down from the chair and leaned over the Komizar, kissing him fully and enthusiastically, which made the hall erupt in more earsplitting cheers.

I pulled back slightly, but my lips grazed his as if we were lovers who couldn’t part. “You wanted a convincing performance,” I whispered. “You got one.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?”

“Listen. Are you not getting the results you wanted? Fervor, I think you called it?”

The hall still roared with excitement.

“Well done,” he conceded.

And then a question was shouted from an elder in the back.

“When will the marriage take place?”

The advantage was yet mine. Before the Komizar could answer, I called back to the elder, “At the rise of Hunter’s Moon to honor the clan of Meurasi.” Six days away. Cheers erupted again.

I knew the Komizar had envisioned an immediate execution of the wedding, but now it was not only announced publicly, it was a date that would honor the clans. The girl Meuras was born under a Hunter’s Moon. If he changed the wedding day now, it would be an insult.

The Komizar stood to accept congratulations. Quarterlords and soldiers pressed in, and I lost sight of him, but I saw that at least some of the governors wore wooden smiles, caught off guard by this new development. Perhaps they were unsettled that as Council they hadn’t been consulted, or maybe it was something else: that I would be queen. The Komizar hadn’t even blinked when I said it. If he had balked at anything, I thought it would be that. Vendans do not have royals. But I saw on our hillside rides how he seemed to flaunt it, a princess of the enemy.

A tankard was thrust into my hand, and I turned to thank whoever had delivered it. It was Rafe.

“Congratulations, Princess,” he said.

We were surrounded, our elbows and backs touching others who mingled in the crowded room, pushing us close together.

“Thank you, Emissary.”

“No hard feelings, right?” a nearby governor interjected.

“A mere summer distraction, Governor. I’m sure you’ve had a few of those,” I said pointedly. He laughed and turned to another conversation.

“Just a few days,” Rafe said. “That’s not much time to get so much ready.”

“Vendan weddings are simple, I’m told. A feast cake and witnesses are all that’s required.”

“How lucky for you both.”

The air was brittle between us.

“I’m sorry about your queen,” I said.

He swallowed hard, belying his fiery stare. “Thank you.”

I could see the rage crackling within him. He was a storm ready to tear loose, a warrior far past the point of holding back—weary of being a compliant emissary.

“Your dress is quite striking,” he said. He forced a strained smile to his lips.

The Komizar was suddenly at my side. “Yes, it is. She’s becoming more Vendan every day, isn’t she, Emissary?” He dragged me away before Rafe could answer.

The night wore long, every elder and quarterlord offering regards to the Komizar, but he received quiet, more devious nods from those who had met with him in his clandestine chambers. It was a strategic move and not a real marriage at all, not even a true partnership as the clans would expect.

I watched him slowly grow irritated with the talkative clan being in the hall. These were not truly his people. They spoke of harvest, weather, and feast cakes, not weapons, wars, and power. Their ways were weak, though he reaped his army from their young. Their only common goal was more. For the clans, more food, more future. For the Komizar, more power. For the promises he dangled before them, they gave him loyalty.

It was evident how much he really did need me when he walked away from one elder mid-sentence, his patience spent. He stopped short in front of me, his eyes clouded with wine, and pulled me behind a pillar.