Page 31 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

I nod toward Tenyt, who gives a quick bow and leaves while he still can. As he scurries by, I take the opportunity to snatch my own glimpse of the baron’s letters.

I can read only the direction on the top envelope, but it’s going out to Prince Jonyk’s residence. I have to wonder what insights into life at Starfrost he’s given our glorious monarch.

Unfortunately, there’s no opportunity to ask Tenyt to review the letters before sending them out.

Once again, motion at the top of the stairs catches my attention. This time it’s Khrint, who seems to be shadowing thebaron, albeit subtly.

The baron is watching me closely as if to ascertain my response to his letters’ addresses, so I can’t even give Khrint a meaningful look in the hopes he'll understand my desire to know what’s in the letters.

No. I’ll simply have to trust that whatever the baron has to tell the prince, it won’t come anywhere near conveying the true danger I pose to Jonyk.

There’s almost no way it could.

Irarely entertain firelords in my personal chambers—and by all rights, that should be doubly true when I have spies like Svalkat in my home.

Yet Khrint ushered Vazor to my private rooms while Svalkat and I ate dinner, because Vazor is different.

For one thing, Vazor is willing to meet me here in Starfrost Manor rather than insisting we convene on neutral ground. For another, he shares my vision for the future of our world—even if our reasons differ.

When I reach my sitting room, I realize the temperature inside the room has already risen ten degrees. I can feel the heat radiating off him as he paces back and forth across the room, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. The flames dancing in the fireplace reflect off Vazor’s golden scales, casting an eerie glow across his angular face.

Even in his humanoid form, there’s no mistaking what he is—his skin shines with an inner fire, and his eyes gleam with predatory intelligence. Like most firelords, he carries an inner flame that manifests physically—in his case, as subtle ripples of orange and red that glimmer beneath his bronze skin.

I’ve known him for decades, and still, something primal in me wants to draw back when he smiles, revealing teeth just a bit too sharp to pass for noble Caix. Instead, I shut the door behind me.

“The usual?” I ask, moving to pour him a glass of wine.

“Please.” Vazor settles into one of my leather chairs, his long legsstretched out before him. “Though I must say, I’m always surprised you’d waste such a fine vintage on me. I’m not exactly a connoisseur.”

I hand him the glass. “Consider it a gesture of goodwill.”

“Ah yes. Goodwill.” His laugh is sardonic. “Is that what we’re calling our little conspiracy these days?”

I take my own seat behind my desk, positioning myself so I can watch both Vazor and the door. “Conspiracy implies we’re doing something wrong. I prefer to think of it as... strategic planning.”

“Call it what you will.” Vazor takes a sip of wine. “The fact remains that Prince Jonyk and King Kavan are determined to broker this peace treaty. And we both know that can’t happen.”

I lean back, steepling my fingers. “Have you learned anything new about your king’s offworld trip last cycle?”

“My sources continue to tell me it never happened.” He gives me a long, level look. “How much do you trust your information?”

I pause. Cyan’s the source of that information, of course, and I’ve gone through the files myself, searching for any sign of deception, any failure of analysis.

“As much as I’d trust my own senses,” I finally say before changing the subject. “How is the peace treaty going? What do you know about the negotiations? What concessions is King Kavan offering?”

“He’s promising to limit research into new uses of quantum computing technology. Clean energy systems. Medical advances.” Vazor counts them off on his fingers. “Everything Jonyk has been desperately trying to keep out of Icecaix lands.”

“Because he knows everyone’s technology weakens our magic,” I say. “He’s not wrong about that.”

“No, but he’s wrong about the solution.” Vazor leans forward, his eyes intense. “The Caix can’t keep living in the past, pretending technology doesn’t exist. The world is changing. Evolution is inevitable.”

“Perhaps.” I take a careful sip of wine. “But change must be managed carefully. Too much too fast leads to chaos.”

“Is that not what we’re planning?” Vazor’s smile is sharp. “Chaos?”

“Controlled chaos,” I correct him. “A carefully orchestrated collapse that will allow us to rebuildsomething better.”

“Ah yes. Your mysterious solution.” Vazor studies me. “You still won’t tell me the details?”

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