In they streamed, making an imperial hall of his throne room. The tension of having so many snakes in one place strained them all. Clarus stood at his elbow, as stiff as his own sword, and dedicated himself to appearing neutral and unreadable instead of incensed.
It would have been easier for the others if Reina hadn't spent all morning standing before them and dismantling plans put in place by the imperials and their sympathizers. Regis, at least, had been prepared to face Aldercapt and pretend as if this treaty was not merely an excuse to be let inside the Wall. But the revelation had shocked and disturbed many of his councilors, some of whom had believed they were on the precipice of peace. Even Clarus was all the more on edge after the morning they had shared.
Regis could understand that. Before, he had been resigned to walking the tightrope over the pit of vipers but he had known this could only end one way; no matter how carefully he walked, it would but delay the inevitable.
Now, however, they had a chance to win. Now, they had something to lose.
So he sat through it—or stood through it, as his knee allowed. And he smiled fake smiles until his face hurt and delivered all the proper responses as dictated by political nicety. Most of the imperials were satisfied with that. A minority poked and prodded, if only to see what would happen. A Lucian king on display for their entertainment. How quaint.
The imperial chancellor was one of those.
"Ah, King Regis. What a pleasure to be, once again, within your magnificent city!"
Of course it was. How else would he tear it apart but from inside?
"I hope you will find the accommodations suitable," Regis said. He could follow a script and usher the chancellor along just like everyone else.
"Oh, I have no doubt! But I must admit some disappointment at finding the throne beside yours empty. And here I was hoping to gaze upon your lovely daughter, today."
No doubt he said it merely to irk Regis.
It worked.
Regis' hands clenched on the arms of his throne and his jaw tightened. His lovely daughter, was she? This filth was out of line.
"We are sorry to dissatisfy you," Regis managed, in a tone that said otherwise. "Perhaps another time."
"Word has it that Princess Reina has a unique brand of magic." Izunia smiled. Most unsettling. "I do hope her nighttime visions have only shown peace and prosperity between our nations."
He knew.
Somehow, impossibly, he knew not only that Reina Dreamed of the future—but that she had Dreamed of this future.
And if he knew he would change plans until she had no concept of what would happen anymore.
But the dance went on. Regis could not afford to lose track of the steps.
"How kind of you to note her gifts; perhaps later you will have the opportunity to ask her, yourself."
"I will have to set aside a few hours to… entertain her."
A man like Ardyn Izunia did not choose words by accident. That knowledge made the hairs on the back of Regis' neck stand up. What he wanted to say was that, under no circumstances would the imperial chancellor ever be left alone with his daughter.
What he was permitted to say was:
"But of course."