Nadir’s brows narrowed slightly. “Maybe you should get to know your sister a little better then—” she smacked him again “—hey! Enough with the hitting!”
“You’re lucky my King asked me not to castrate you,” Aydra warned.
The deliberate clearing of Draven’s throat at her side made her pause. Aydra took a deep breath, feeling herself calm as Draven’s hand landed on the small of her back. “I’m fine,” Aydra made herself say.
Draven stared at his best friend, and Nadir lowered his arms. “What the Infi, Naddi?” he whispered.
“What? You’re mad at me too?” Nadir argued. “It’s not my fault. I was avoiding her, doing as I’d been told. She— She— I was weak—We spent most of the night talking anyway—”
Aydra’s brows raised at him, and Nadir backed away before she could hit him.
“Not that that’s any better!” he said fast. He pushed his hair back off his face and sighed heavily. “I’m not apologizing,” he finally said. “I know what you said… but… it was nice. Talking to her.”
Aydra hugged her arms over her chest and gave him a pursed lips once over. “Break her heart, and I’ll break your neck,” she finally told him.
The door opened then, and the Belwarks announced Rhaif’s entrance.
The three of them looked between each other, and Nadir clapped her shoulder as he moved past her towards his own seat. Draven squeezed Aydra’s hands.
“Ready?” he asked one final time.
Aydra exhaled a breath through her mouth, and Draven reached up to her cup her cheek in his hand. “Ready,” she said, sinking her face into his palm.
The rest of the group took their seats around the table, the last of which being Draven and then finally Aydra.
Rhaif stared at her across the table.
And Aydra couldn’t stop smirking at him.
Rhaif’s hands steepled together atop the table, and he leaned forward to look at the scribe in the corner of the room. “Scribe, please record the date and time of this historic meeting, along with the names of all those in attendance,” he said mechanically. “As a first order, I would like to thank all of you for coming. It has been too long since our races were united as one.”
A Belwark came forward then and placed a piece of parchment down in front of the High Councilwoman, Reid. She nodded and thanked the Belwark before clearing her throat.
“A first matter— trading routes,” she began.
Aydra tapped her fingers absently on the table as they spoke of goods, of trading with new places, of the new stock the Blackhands could offer if Magnice would allow them to trade in their streets as well as the Honest.
Once the trading routes were mulled over, and a declaration had been put forth for the new goods, things turned towards the discussion of the Infi. The Council wanted an update on any Infi in their streets, as well as an update on Draven’s end—whether they’d found more in his Forest.
“We took care of it,” Aydra argued at the Council. Her eyes flickered to the Elder from the Bryn. “But I’m told your town has more Infi in it than you dare to admit.”
Draven squeezed her thigh under the table.
The Bryn Elder’s brow raised at her, and the woman sat up at the table. “We have a few, yes. Can’t seem to get rid of the filth. They hide on the higher peaks, only coming into our town at night or in the winter.”
“I can help with disposal,” Draven interjected. “It will be a long journey for your to be rid of them, though. I can explain what you’ll need to do before you leave.”
The Bryn Elder gave him a nod. “That would be much appreciated.”
“There is easier way,” came the Nitesh’s voice.
Frowns slipped onto Aydra and Draven’s faces as they leaned forward to see her.
“What do you mean?” Draven asked.
Lovi’s laughter echoed around the room, and they all turned to see him shaking his head. “Secrets, Nari,” he mused. “You’ve too many.”
“Can one of you please tell us what we’re missing?” Hagen piped in.
“Disposal of Infi,” the Nitesh began. “Duarb’s roots connected to the caves. Mons welcomes his presence.”
“So… they just have to take the bodies to the caves?” Draven asked. “Not the Hills?”
The Nitesh nodded.
Draven sighed back in his chair and nodded to the Bryn Elder. “That makes things simpler. I’ll tell you how it’s done when we’re finished.”
“Or I could go,” Dorian chimed in.
Chairs moved as people tilted their heads at him. Aydra bit her lips to keep from smiling. He met her gaze, and she gave him a nod.
“I can travel to the Bryn in a week. Help you dispose of the bodies. I have accompanied the Venari King when he disposed of those in our streets,” Dorian said.
“I will go with him,” chimed in the Belwark Corbin.
Rhaif’s hands were tightened together atop the table. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “The prince will ride with his guard to the Bryn next week. We can be rid of this filth before it takes a whole town.”
“Are there any other matters to speak of?” Rhaif asked, his gaze darting around the room.
Draven grasped Aydra’s hand above the table and leaned back in his chair, gazing down his nose at the Promised King before him.
“I think you know,” Draven said in a low voice.
Aydra’s chest swelled, and she leaned forward. “Let’s not dance around it.”
Rhaif’s eyes cut at her. “There is nothing to dance around,” he hissed.
“Were you trying to keep it quiet?” came Nadir’s voice. “Did you think we wouldn’t bring it up?”
Aydra met Nadir’s amused gaze, and she almost laughed.
“Bring what up?” asked Hagen. “What’s going on?”
“It’s no longer a concern,” Rhaif said quickly.
“No longer a concern…” Nadir repeated the words and sank back into his chair. “So sixteen of my men dying. Eight of the Venari… their lives being lost to strangers invading our shores, that is not a concern to you?”
“Invasion?” the Nitesh repeated.
“It was my understanding,” Councilwoman Reid interjected loudly, “that this situation was taken care of.”
“The situation
