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"What are the citizens saying about our Dothvek diplomat?" She kept her tone casual, as if inquiring about any other diplomatic matter. "Has his presence helped ease tensions at all?"

K’Nar glanced up from his notes. "Quite significantly, according to our sources. The females who attended the reception were quite... taken with him. Word has spread that he is cultured, well-spoken, and a friend to the Cresteks."

"Some were more than taken," remarked the commerce minister with a knowing smirk. "My wife tells me several prominent ladies are already maneuvering to secure private audiences with the ambassador. Diplomatic relations, they call it."

A ripple of laughter moved around the table, and she forced herself to smile along with them, though she felt a sharp twist of jealousy at the thought of those females pursuing Zexx. Their transparent attempts to seduce him at the reception had been bad enough; the idea of them continuing their pursuit in private made her fingers tighten around her stylus until she feared it might snap.

Then she remembered how Zexx had looked at her that night, how he'd ignored their blatant advances, how he'd later whispered against her skin that he wanted no one but her. He had never made her feel anything less than completely desired, completely chosen.

"The ambassador's charm has proven unexpectedly useful," she acknowledged, keeping her voice steady. "But we should ensure that his time is primarily devoted to substantive diplomatic work rather than social calls."

"I've arranged for him to tour the water reclamation facility this afternoon," K’Nar said. "The eastern settlements have expressed interest in adopting similar technology as the barbar—the Dothveks, and his report to the Dothvek leader could facilitate a formal exchange of knowledge."

She nodded, pleased that K’Nar was taking initiative in integrating Zexx into meaningful work. "Excellent. Keep me informed of his progress."

As the meeting wound down and council members began gathering their materials to depart, she found herself struggling to maintain the mask of calm efficiency she'd perfected over years of leadership. Behind it, her thoughts were a tumult of conflicting emotions.

Was it possible to be both a devoted chancellor and a woman in love with a Dothvek? Or would one role inevitably undermine the other?

In love.

The thought surfaced unbidden, startling in its clarity and certainty. When had this happened? How had she allowed herself to fall so completely for a barbarian she could never take as a mate? And what would she do when that barbarian returned to his world, and she was left to hers?

ChapterTwenty-Four

Zexx ascended the winding ramp that curled around the interior of the tower, his footfalls silent despite the formal Crestek boots he'd reluctantly grown accustomed to wearing. Even with foot coverings, he could tread without making a sound due to years of silent hunts on the sands.

The morning light streamed through the arched windows cut into the stone, casting alternating patterns of light and shadow across his path. He’d grown accustomed to the presence of more shadow than sun, although he often longed to feel the suns’ rays beating on his back.

What a strange turn his life had taken. A Dothvek warrior finding happiness within the cold stone walls of the Crestek city, in the arms of their chancellor no less.

He paused at a window, gazing across the city toward the distant shimmer of sand on the horizon. He should have been counting the days until he could return home, should have been resenting every moment trapped within these walls—yet he found himself content in a way he'd never experienced before.

Guilt shadowed that contentment like a sandstorm hiding the suns. How could he find such joy among a people he'd been raised to view as enemies? People who had oppressed and demonized the Dothveks for generations? Weren’t the Cresteks the ones responsible for the illness that killed so many of their females? Hadn’t their greed and desire for comforts made them weak, and hadn’t that weakness damaged both their peoples?

But as much as his ire still flamed when he thought of the damage they had done, the Cresteks were no longer faceless enemies to him. They were individuals, some he'd grown to respect, others he still distrusted. K’Nar, with his pinched expressions and perpetual air of disapproval, yet fierce loyalty to Linnea. The old scholar who'd eagerly questioned him about Dothvek healing techniques, his eyes bright with genuine curiosity. The market vendor who'd pressed extra pastries into his hands when he'd passed through the market square, whispering that her son had been one of the guards saved by Dothveks during a sand serpent attack near the eastern border.

And then there was Linnea—the woman who had transformed from enemy to lover so completely that he could hardly remember a time when he hadn't craved her touch, her scent, her smile.

He continued up the ramp, adjusting the formal tunic that still felt confining despite the tailor's efforts to accommodate his broader frame. As he approached the level where the council chamber was located, the murmur of voices reached his ears. The council meeting must have ended; he'd timed his arrival to catch Linnea alone afterward.

But these voices were low, conspiratorial. His warrior's instincts flared, and he slipped silently into a recessed doorway several paces before the chamber entrance. From here, he could hear but remain unseen.

"—diminished considerably since the reception," one voice was saying, a voice he recognized as belonging to Advisor Vellen, one of Linnea's security council members. "The common people seem pacified by the barbarian's charm."

"For now," replied a raspy voice—Councilor Taal, the agricultural minister. "But a week of peace hardly constitutes a success. It's time to pay more coin for some disruption."

He tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for a blade that wasn't there. These were Linnea's trusted advisors, speaking of deliberately undermining the peace?

"Agreed," Vellen said. "This time the protest needs to make more of an impact, something the chancellor can't simply ignore. Once she imposes stricter sanctions and shows her true colors, we can make the case that she's just as oppressive as past chancellors."

"And have her removed from power," Taal finished, satisfaction dripping from his words. "The council would have no choice but to act."

Zexx’s blood ran cold as their meaning became clear. These men weren't concerned about protecting the city from threats; they were orchestrating their own chancellor's downfall.

"She's been impossible since taking power," Vellen continued, his voice dropping even lower. "A female giving orders as if she has any right to lead. Her brother was bad enough, but at least he understood how to properly deal with sand barbarians."

"I've seen how she looks at that Dothvek," Taal muttered. "Always finding excuses to have him close. Do you think there's something between them?"