Page 33 of Bloodwitch

Even if Habim had not passed, there was only one thing Safi would say. But hehadpassed, so it was easy to speak with conviction. “Yes, the general spoke the truth.”

“Good,” Habim replied before Rokesh could open his mouth. Already Habim twisted toward the table, dismissing Safi and the Adders. Like a chime-piece wound too tightly, he moved to the next second, to the next order of business, and didn’t wait for the world to catch up.

“I will see the Empress now, thank you.” He waved to a contingent of troops along the Marstoki borders. “Tell her there is much to be discussed, and ifthisis her imperial strategy, then it will be a very short war, indeed.”

Vivia’s pulse hammered in her ears. Her magic surged in her veins, and beside her, two streams of water hung ready.

“You may lower your water,” Vaness said with a graceful wave.

“Oh may I? I’m so glad to have your permission.”

Vaness huffed a weary, if overdone sigh and swept to a seat. “If I had wanted to kill you, then you would already be dead. Besides, you do not truly feel threatened, or you would have called your officers.”

Ah, the Empress was too sharp. So, with a brazen smile to spread across her mask—what else could Vivia use to keep control?—she eased the water back into its carafe. A slow, slinking coil of power with nary a drip to splatter free.

“If you are needed elsewhere,” Vivia drawled, “then I presume our meeting has come to a close.”

“I apologize.” A bob of Vaness’s dark head. “This was unexpected, and,” she admitted, “unwanted. Here. Before you go.” She slid a rolled paper across the table.

Vivia took it, careful to keep her expression bored while she untied the golden ribbon that bound the thick vellum page.

“There’s nothing here.” The paper was completely blank.

“Not yet.” Vaness pulled a second rolled paper from her gown, and in seconds she had it stretched over the table—although a pencil toppled out and clattered to the floor.

And for the first time ever, Vivia watched the Empress of Marstok flush. Then, to Vivia’s even greater awe, the Empress’s grace briefly failed her. With an embarrassed, almost agitated speed, she snatched the sheepskin-wrapped graphite off the floor.

Her bracelets clanked, her cheeks burned brighter, and Vivia was forced to admit that Vaness might just be the most beautiful woman who had ever lived. It was almost… well,laughablethat anyone could be that pretty.

Vaness regained her poise mere heartbeats later, bending over the table with the same air of purpose she always wore. “These pages are Wordwitched. When I write on one, like so…” She scribbled something and straightened.

“Now, look at your letter.”

Vivia did so, only to find her eyes immediately widening.This is my handwritingwas written across the top in smooth, compact Nubrevnan letters.

“You may respond.” Vaness offered Vivia the pencil.

Vivia made no move to take it. “What,” she began slowly, “am I meant to do with this?”

“Respond.” She wagged the pencil at Vivia.

“Why?”

“I would have thought it obvious. You are a busy woman, I am a busy woman. With this, we can negotiate a treaty from afar. When we reach the end of the page, it will clear itself, and we may start our conversation anew.”

“How will I know it’s you?”

“Because that is my script. I can write several more sentences if that would help—”

“No.” Vivia laid the paper on the table. “I have no need for you or your… Or your…” Her eyes met Vaness’s.

And suddenly, just like that, Vivia was too tired to even go on.

Always, she played the part of anger. Always, she maintained the role of power and control, of impatient Nihar rage. Always, she stormed in, she stormed out. She yelled loudest, fought hardest, and kept others—be they friends, be they empires—at bay. Why, though? In all her years of doing this, of mimicking her father and wearing the mask of a bear, it had never served her well.

The High Council wouldn’t hold her coronation, Stix didn’t want to be near her, and scarcely seven hours ago, her father had stolen the triumph she had worked so hard to earn.

Now, the Empress of Marstok, with her eight million fancy titles, was offering Vivia a chance.Vivia,not her father. And fool though she was, Vivia had believed Vaness when the woman had said she was impressed by the Foxes.