Page 29 of The Sundered Realms

That about summed it up. Liris nodded. “The ways of doing that vary by culture, so that waits until we specialize. Avoiding giving official offense to anyone we may meet is necessary for all ambassadors.”

His purple eyes searched hers. “That is a deeply strange way of approaching the world.”

Liris raised her eyebrows. “Says the man whose realm still supports a fundamentally barbaric government system, Lord Vhannor?”

Lord Vhannor flashed an absolutely devastating grin at her, and wow, that had been worth waiting for. “I can’t deny aristocracy and inherited power have plenty of problems, but I admit in my case I’m grateful to not have to worry about running for reelection like some of my colleagues. The continuity guarantees we can keep the university and Special Operations funded.”

“Until an inbred successor goes mad, of course.”

He cocked his head to one side, looking at her oddly. “That’s a thing of the past in Isendhor.” The realm where Embhullor was located. “We choose our partners, now.”

Liris’ heart thumped. Completely ridiculous, that’s not in any way the kind of alliance they’d been discussing, but why was he looking at her like that?

At her silence he shrugged. “And you can’t tell me populists aren’t at risk of madness either.”

True. “Or elders,” Liris murmured.

They were supposed to have the most accumulated wisdom.

But what kind of wisdom didn’t leave space for new ideas, and jailed or sacrificed its youth on the altar of never evolving?

“No perfect system, though some are worse than others,” Lord Vhannor agreed. “In my case I can focus on doing my work—“

“Without interruptions from a pesky council you actually have to listen to?”

He rolled his eyes and drawled, “I assure you, they are quite capable of interrupting me despite my cousin’s best efforts. Somehow especially when it’s not important rather than when it actually is.”

“Democracy, so pesky.”

“But”—he shot her a look—“since you’ve mentioned arbitrary class barriers, you might as well drop the ‘Lord’. If I’m not addressing you by title, you ought to call me Vhannor.”

That startled her. Permission to use given names was more freely given in some realms and cultures, but Isendhor wasn’t one of them to the best of her knowledge.

And since this was a matter of not offending strangers, she did know.

“I don’t have any titles,” Liris said uncomfortably.

Not ambassador.

Not even candidate anymore.

“All the more reason,” the Lord of Embhullor said coolly. “It is unbalanced for one of us to bestow honorifics on the other when it took us both to dispel that portal.”

Oh, well, in that case.

Gods, she’d have been moved if he’d claimed a desire to treat her like just another person—that alone would have mattered. If he’d claimed friendship, she might have been flattered, but suspicious. But this reasoning?

This was about what she’d done, and Liris had no defense against that acknowledgment.

He bowed shallowly at her and threw like a challenge, “Vhannor.”

Liris’ lips quirked, and she bowed in kind. “Vhannor, then.”

They started walking again, the silence between them different this time—friendlier? But since Liris had no idea how to not talk about work, she was less comfortable.

Then silver light flared on their left—like glare on a window that didn’t exist.

Vhannor’s whole body focused, a pillar of ice unwavering in its stare. “This way.”

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