After Lucia left, Naya glanced up at the elegant clock perched on the writing desk. It was late, but not ridiculously so. Delence might still be awake. She took a moment to compose herself, then slipped out into the hall. The aether on the other side of Delence’s door lacked the soft haze that usually accompanied sleep, so Naya knocked.

Delence opened the door with a scowl. “I told you I don’t want—oh, it’s you. I thought it was that servant again.”

“May I come in? There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Naya said.

“Is it important?” Impatience tinted Delence’s aether. It itched against Naya’s skin like the beginning of a rash.

“It’s about what happened outside the gates,” Naya whispered.

Delence scowled. “You of all people should know what to expect coming here.”

Naya glanced down the hallway. “Can we talk about this in private, please?”

Delence eyed her for a moment before stepping back and letting her into the room. “You don’t seem injured, so what about this incident was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?” He had shrugged off his jacket and loosened the buttons on his white shirt. Already the surface of his desk was disappearing under neat piles of paper.

“One of the men in that crowd attacked me with a wraith eater,” Naya said, unnerved by Delence’s callous response.

Delence’s expression darkened. He ran two fingers over his mustache. “So they were armed. The Talmiran rune scribes made thousands of those weapons during the war. I’m not surprised a few people around here would still be holding on to them.”

Naya shook her head. “I don’t think it was blind luck that they targeted the carriage Francisco and I were in. And none of the guards made a move to help me until I’d already knocked the knife from that man’s hand. It was like they were waiting to see if he’d succeed.”

“What are you suggesting?” Delence asked.

Naya scowled. She couldn’t believe Delence didn’t see the connection. “I don’t see how any of this could have happened unless some of the soldiers or city guards helped plan the attack. And I don’t like knowing that the only people allowed to carry weapons at this Congress are trying to kill me. If they tried once, they’ll try again.” She could feel her control cracking. Her voice rose, and she couldn’t keep the edge out of her tone. Logically she knew yelling at Delence wouldn’t fix anything. But the cool, casual way he’d taken her news grated against her nerves like sand.

Delence turned away from her and walked to his desk. He uncorked a bottle of amber liquor and poured a generous few fingers into the bottom of an already wet glass. He took a slow sip before answering. “You’re accusing the queen’s guard of having conspired to murder members of a foreign delegation. That’s a very serious claim.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Delence swirled the liquid in his glass. “I believe this little display was meant more to scare us than as an assassination attempt. I expected something like it, though I didn’t think she’d act quite so fast.”

Naya blinked. “You expected this?”

“I assumed we’d be attacked eventually, yes.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me? Why? Did you think my reaction would be more distracting if I didn’t see the attack coming?”

Delence frowned. “I see you and Francisco have been talking. What exactly did he tell you?”

“Only that you have no intentions of actually helping the undead,” Naya said. “I guess I can understand you being willing to risk my life, but what about him? He’s your son.”

Anger flashed in Delence’s dark eyes. “I suggest you watch your tone.”

Naya stepped closer. “My tone? I gave up everything to save you. Corten died rescuing you. When you asked me to come back to Lith Lor, I thought it was because you wanted to help the undead. But you’re just as bad as Valn. You think you can use people however you want, no matter how much you hurt them.” A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that she should back down. In Ceramor, Delence had warned her that he would send her home if she disobeyed him. But that voice was the same one that had told her to trust Valn. It was the same voice that had promised that if she could just be smart enough, good enough, she would earn her father’s trust and love. That voice was fear, and it had made her a pawn too many times before. She was done listening to it.

“I am trying to stop a war,” Delence said, the words falling in the air like heavy stones. “What were you expecting when you came here? That a few clever words on your part would be enough to end decades of hate? It’s more complicated than that. My son understands that.”

“Your son understands that you care less about him than you do your precious trade deals,” Naya said.

Delence tensed. Then he drained the contents of his glass and turned away from her. “It’s late, Miss Garth. I suggest you retire for the night. We’ll all have work to do in the morning.”

Naya thought about trying to push further. But the tight lines of Delence’s shoulders made her somehow warier than if he’d shouted. She turned and stomped out of the room.

Back in the hall, Naya closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Her anger was draining away, replaced by a queasy sense of unease. Creator, why had she shouted at Delence like that? Corten was her reason for being here, not the Congress. She shouldn’t let herself be bothered by the way Delence treated Francisco, or the way Francisco seemed to accept it willingly. And as much as she hated to admit it, Delence had been right about one thing. How could she really hope to make a difference when Talmir and Ceramor had spent decades hating each other?

What she needed to do was stay focused. Reaching into her pocket, she felt the reassuring crinkle of the torn page containing the key she’d constructed to decrypt her father’s logbook. The pages she’d managed to translate so far hadn’t revealed anything useful, but there were still plenty of entries left.