The kitchens had bustled with activity all morning. Freed slaves and soldiers too infirm to fight had busied themselves cooking a feast for the returning heroes. Janto led the fleet admirals and their officers to the grand ballroom and delivered the first of many toasts celebrating their victory.
Food and wine flowed copiously, though Janto drank lightly in order to retain his wits. When the party was beginning to wind down and an overstimulated Sashi had retreated into his shirt for a nap, Admiral Llinos pulled Janto aside. “Your Majesty, I want to confer with you on a matter of some delicacy before we begin the negotiations.”
“What matter is this?”
“As you know, the Kjallan Empire has always been insular. They marry their imperial princesses to great Kjallan military leaders and the heads of powerful families, never to foreign heads of state. I believe this is part of the reason Kjall so willingly invades other nations. They have no ties to those nations. Now, the deposed Emperor Florian has two daughters—one daughter and one niece, actually—and the niece is of marriageable age. I understand she was previously betrothed, but her fiancé was killed during the invasion.”
“That is correct.”
“So she’s available.”
Janto nodded. “I plan to make an offer for her hand.”
“Good, you and I are thinking along the same lines,” said Llinos. “But an offer? Under the circumstances, an offer will be refused. You must make it part of the settlement.”
Janto blinked. “Force it on her?”
“An imperial princess never has much of a choice in her marriage partner—nor does a king, as I understand it?” He raised his eyebrows.
“For the most part, no,” Janto agreed.
“We must bring pressure to bear on the Kjallans to join the wider community and marry their women outside the empire.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Admiral Llinos departed, swaying a little with drink.
Janto bit his lip, hardly able to sort out his feelings. He wanted Rhianne to marry him and return home with him as the queen of Mosar. But she was so hostile right now, and he had so little time. It was unlikely she would accept his proposal. Could he do as Llinos suggested and make it part of the peace settlement? Rhianne had nearly been forced into one marriage already. It didn’t seem right to force her into another. And Lucien’s advice lay heavy on his heart. He would never mistreat Rhianne, but under the circumstances, how could he avoid keeping her in protective custody? Lucien didn’t understand the realities of his situation.
He sipped his wine. He was looking for San-Kullen when Admiral Durgan, the Riorcan, intercepted him and addressed him in fluent diplomatic Kjallan. “Your Majesty, may I speak to you in private?”
“Of course.”
They moved to a quiet corner of the slowly emptying ballroom.
“What are your expectations for the upcoming negotiations?” asked Durgan.
“Well,” said Janto, “Mosar will be liberated, either by force or through peaceful agreement. I hope to set up trade settlements to promote better relations over the long term. Realistically, these agreements will work only if Kjall will truly benefit from them, since our influence over Emperor Lucien ends in a matter of days.”
“And what of Riorca?”
“Admiral, I am willing to offer your ships and your people safe harbor at Mosar. My soldiers have scoured the city and freed more than a thousand Riorcan slaves—”
“This I already know,” said Durgan.
“And I would be happy to welcome them to Mosar as free men and women. We have land available for them to settle.”
Durgan’s brows lowered. “King Jan-Torres, my people have no wish to be Mosari refugees. Our interest is in liberating Riorca. Am I to understand that these peace negotiations will offer no benefit whatsoever to Riorca?”
“What concessions do you desire in the negotiations?”
“No less than what you wish for Mosar. Freedom!”
“And how are we to negotiate for it?”
“We demand it in exchange for young Lucien’s life.”
Janto shook his head. “It won’t work, Admiral. If we kill Lucien, someone else will rise to power in his place. If you can find a way to bring pressure to bear on Kjall such that they will give up Riorca, I would love to see it happen. But I don’t see how. The only reason Lucien will withdraw from Mosar is that his fleet has been destroyed. He could not hold my country if he tried. But Riorca is accessible by land, and we haven’t made a dent in Kjall’s land forces.”
“My people fought by your side, King Jan-Torres. Do you not now owe us the same favor in return? To liberate Riorca is not as difficult as you believe. My people would rise up. They have already! Even now, there are parts of Riorca Kjall does not control. If your fleet gave us support by sea—”
“Admiral, surely you are not proposing that my people begin another war.”
“Finish a war, not begin one.”
“Take it up with Admiral Llinos, not me. The Sardossians may be capable of fighting another war, but my people are not. We’ve lost nearly a fifth of our population. Some of our cities have been razed, while others are badly damaged, and we’re heading into the storm season, during which we can neither build nor grow food. I fear the Kjallans have plundered our stores, and there’s only so much food we can carry back with us. My people will have their hands full just keeping their children fed. A war is utterly beyond them.”
“My people fought for you. We gave our lives for you. And you offer us nothing?”
Janto rubbed his temples. Negotiations hadn’t even begun yet, and already his head hurt. “I offer your people land, safe harbor, and citizenship on Mosar.”
Durgan glared at him. “I told you, my people have no wish to be refugees.”
“Then I cannot help you, Admiral.”
“I see,” said Admiral Durgan coldly. He walked away, his back very straight.
San-Kullen, who’d been standing at a discreet distance, approached. “Sire? Are you feeling well? You don’t look yourself.”
Janto shook his head. “I’m just tired. Frustrated.” He made an exasperated gesture at Durgan’s retreating form. “He wants things from me I can’t give. Llinos wants things from me I can’t give. So do Lucien and Rhianne. Why does everyone demand the impossible?”
San-Kullen smiled wryly. “Welcome to the Mosari throne, Your Majesty.”
37
Rhianne’s stomach fluttered when Jan-Torres entered her room. It was so irritating the way her body reacted to him. She knew intellectually that Janto and Jan-Torres were different people and one of them wasn’t even real, but her body hadn’t received the message. Her body remembered only that those were the hands that had stroked her, those were the lips that had kissed her, and that part of her, the stupid part, still wanted him.
“Rhianne,” he greeted her. He turned to Morgan, who still rested on the couch. “Are you recovering well?”
“Getting stronger, Your Majesty,” said Morgan.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He turned back to Rhianne. “I’d like to speak with you in private.”
Morgan struggled up from his prone position. “I’ll move to the bedroom.”
“No—stay where you are,” Rhianne scolded. “Jan-Torres and I will go to the bedroom.” When Morgan raised a worried eyebrow, she added, “We’ll be fine. We’re just going to talk.” She had concerns about Jan-Torres, but that he would assault or molest her was not among them.