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Her jaw tenses and the frown appears. She inhales sharply, narrowing her eyes.

“I fear that we don’t have enough time. Not enough resources, not enough bodies. Humanity’s future is a dwindling flame. Our species… all of us… we need each other or there will be no future. We’ll fade away.”

“And you would strike a bargain with an exiled Queen who was the enemy of your ally?”

Rosalind’s lips press into a line.

“Enemies are a luxury when extinction is the alternative.”

I cross my arms, watching and waiting.

“You are pragmatic, Rosalind. I respect that. But you have called me here without reservations.”

For the first time, her confidence wavers. Her fingers stop drumming. She sighs, heavily, weariness softens her face as her shoulders sag. The iron strength in her spine giving under the weight of all that she carries.

“I need to know where you stand. Truly. If I back you, and the Zmaj and humans return to the surface, will you restart the war? Will you try to claim the surface as your own and cast us out?”

I let out a slow breath, lowering my head. I uncross my arms, clasping my hands before myself. I allow myself a small, if somewhat bitter smile. Small but genuine. She admits her fear and I feel the reluctance to say it out loud but we both know this is the truth. That this is what she’s worried about.

“My people want peace. I would love to be the Queen that leads our return to the surface, but not at that cost. We lost the war with the Zmaj. I want that to be over. At the same time, I want air, sun, and a future, but I seek no empire.”

Rosalind studies me for a long, silent moment.

“And what of the Al’fa? He will not yield easily,” she asks quietly.

“No,” I say. “He won’t. But even the bedrock can be eroded by the right current.”

“He underestimates you,” Rosalind chuckles, but there is no humor in it.

I allow myself a faint smile. She is right, on the surface, but I also see something more. The Al’fa is bluster and aplomb, but beneath that there is a cunning mind. And maybe, just maybe, something more.

“He will learn,” I answer, my smile becoming more genuine.

The room settles into a loaded silence. Two leaders, both on the edge of ruin, both weighing whether they can afford to gamble on the other.

“Let’s be clear,” Rosalind says at last. “This is survival.”

“Agreed.”

“But it is a path forward.”

I incline my head. “For now.”

Her shoulders ease, just a fraction. She purses her lips, crosses her arms over her chest again, and drums her fingers.

“Then we move together, at least until the Shaman is dealt with.”

“And after?”

“One war at a time,” Rosalind says with a shrug.

There is a wryness in her voice that almost makes me laugh. Instead, I offer my hand. A gesture of alliance, if not trust. Rosalind hesitates only briefly before taking it.

“May we survive what comes next,” I murmur.

Her grip is firm.

“May we stop it first.”