Page 75 of Royal Rebel

Like his current meeting with Tamar Nadir. Because—once again—he had council seats to fill.

Ser Zephan and Ser Ashear had both died weeks ago near the border. He’d only learned of their deaths when Serene had arrived in Duvan, and with all of the ceremonies for his father’s funeral and the coronation, Yahri had said some allowances could be made for delaying filling their seats.

One of them would be filled as soon as Serai Nadir agreed to take it.

Tamar’s frown drew deep lines in her brow. “I’m not a politician.”

“Perfect. Neither am I. And Razan isn’t, either.”

“I have no strong connections to any of the local powerful families,” Tamar protested. “I’ve spent too many years living outside of Duvan.”

“That makes your perspective all the more useful,” Desfan countered. “I want more opinions—broader views. I also want someone with strong moral convictions, and I would especially like someone else who will advocate for peace with Devendra. Please, Serai Nadir.”

She studied him for a long moment, her face revealing nothing. Then she sighed. “Do I have to wear the green robe?”

His mouth twitched. “Only while the council is in session, or at formal affairs as outlined by Serai Yahri.”

“Do I have to live in Duvan?”

“You’ll have a permanent apartment in the palace, but you may leave during breaks, and you may ask for a substitute if ever you need time away.”

Tamar let out a weary sigh. “Very well. I agree.”

“Thank you.” He meant it. Tamar Nadir was a perfect choice for the council, but he knew it required sacrifices.

“I suppose I can see Yahri about any further questions I have?” Tamar asked.

“Absolutely. She’s expecting a meeting with you as soon as you’re able to arrange it. In the meantime, I’d like your advice on something.”

Curiosity bloomed in her eyes. “Of course.”

“Mortise has been through difficult times—my father’s illness and death, my personal fumbles and shortcomings, and, of course, this new alliance with Devendra. Many vocally protested my betrothal to Serene, and though that matter is now settled, I receive letters daily from concerned citizens. They fear Devendra. Even though war with Ryden is coming, it’s not a reality yet for most of Mortise. How do I help them see the benefits of this alliance? How do I help them not see Devendra as an enemy?”

Tamar considered his words. “You’re working in very general terms, Serjan. You can’t tell the Mortisians to like the Devendrans; that’s too broad. Trust is built between individual people. So, if you wish to make Mortisians like Devendrans, you must get people to interact and connect on a personal level.”

“That will take time.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But it will be worth it. With your permission—and King Newlan’s consent—I can begin to arrange dinners and other events along the border. And here, we can continue efforts with Serene’s help. She has made great progress in your court already, so let her go into Duvan and mingle with the people in the city. She can shop in the markets, praise our craftsmen, and have dinners with the lesser nobility. She can even visit some of the orphanages you’ve set up in her name.”

“These are excellent suggestions. I would like you to talk to Yahri about your ideas. Together, you can draft a letter to King Newlan. Meanwhile, I’ll speak with Serene.” Or Clare, he supposed. “Thank you, Serai Nadir.”

She bowed her head, matching his formality, and they both stood. “If I can help heal some of the hatred between Mortise and Devendra,” she said, “I will consider it to be my life’s greatest achievement.”

Desfan smiled. “Welcome to the council, Tamar. I’m glad you’re with us.”

“And I’m glad you’re our serjan,” she said, surprising him with her sincerity. “I had great admiration for your father and his rule, so I mean no disrespect when I say I think you’re going to be an amazing serjan. I think you’ll do wonderful things for Mortise, and all of Eyrinthia.”

Her words rendered him speechless, and continued to echo in his head long after she’d left.

He’d been in meetings since dawn, and now afternoon light poured through the window. He didn’t know if Karim was still standing guard outside his office door, or if he’d taken a break and appointed others to watch him.

Desfan hoped Karim was resting. His friend had pushed himself too hard during the coronation three days ago, which was evidenced by his more pronounced limp. It had taken a few threats, but Desfan had finally managed to convince him to rest yesterday, and hopefully he was still taking things easy today.

Desfan only had meetings today, since there were so many things to catch up on after the coronation. All regular meetings would resume in a few days, which included council meetings. Before everything resumed, he really should interrogate Liam Kaelin. The Shadow of Ryden would have many secrets in his spymaster head, and truthfully, Desfan should have made time to interrogate him sooner. Liam had been in a cell for a month now. To be fair, it had been a very busy month; Desfan had been dealing with his father’s death, settling his court after a myriad of attacks, and attending ceremonies to celebrate the late serjan as well as commemorate his own coronation. Not to mention, he’d learned the truth about his sister’s fate, and was far more consumed by her rescue than anything else. In the end, he simply hadn’t had the time to interrogate Liam. But perhaps that could work in his favor; maybe now, after being so ignored, Liam would be more willing to talk—desperate for any sort of company.

Perhaps that was wishful thinking, but it was a tactic he should at least pretend he’d chosen, in case that earned him an advantage.

Maybe he’d visit Liam tomorrow, if he could fit it in amid all his other responsibilities. He was still waiting on the full report of the damage done to his treasury, but there were payments to be made, letters to read, another council member to choose—though Yahri had a couple of suggestions he needed to consider—and he needed to write to Lord Zander Fellnor. He needed to do what he could for the Devendran refugees in the camp called Salvation, and he needed to consider what action he could take against Prince Grandeur and his Hunt, without endangering the tentative alliance between Devendra and Mortise. Serene suggested a strongly written letter. Desfan had other desires, but a letter was probably the most tactful approach.

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