Page 52 of While the Dark Remains

Aelia watches me mildly as I hop down and settle myself cross-legged on the chaise by her writing desk. This room is a little larger than mine, but furnished the same.

Diamonds dangle from Aelia’s ears. She sets her pen on the desk and caps the ink bottle.

“Astridur Sindri,” she says. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” She smiles and rises from her seat, eyeing me pointedly as she sweeps by. “You move like a dancer, you know. Or an acrobat.”

I go cold. Have I really only managed to keep my secret for two days?

She settles again on a plush chair facing me. Her earrings flash in the lamplight. “I do wonder what you’re doing here, back in the court of the king who tormented you, acting the spy for a Skaandan prince.”

She’s trapped me neatly and she knows it, but there is no malice in her gaze. She leans back in the chair and folds her arms across her chest. “Perhaps you don’t remember me. But I remember you—how could I forget? I was certain you would fall to your death a dozen times during your routine, all those years ago. But you didn’t. And here you still are. Surviving.” She lifts her eyebrows, clearly waiting for me to speak.

I’m prepared for a lot of things, but not this. How much does Aelia know? How far is she in her father’s confidences? And why isshehere after all these years? The emperor wants the hidden Iljaria weapon, that much is clear—but does he really trust his daughter enough to send her to fetch it for him?

“I am simply here to negotiate peace for my people,” I say carefully, “and to give Prince Vilhjalmur all the tools he needs to accomplish that.”

Aelia nods, but there’s a glint of something dangerous in her eyes. “I should warn you that we are a bit at cross purposes. Aerona’s arrangement with Daeros is drawing to a close. We have nothing more to gain from them, and they take much more than they give.”

“What is it, exactly, that Aerona wants from Daeros?” I ask, keeping my voice as neutral as I can.

For a heartbeat, her eyes narrow, but then she smiles again, airy and light. “Daeros offered us the designs and building materials for all of Kallias’s inventions.”

My heart stutters. I knew this already, in the vaguest of terms, but not the details. “What kinds of inventions?”

“Lamps, mostly, that burn without fire or fuel. They are useful, of course, but hardly worth the endless shipments of food Daeros has demanded. My father originally signed the trade agreement because Kallias promised—” She cuts herself off, frowning at her slip, and changes the subject. I curse, inwardly—she very nearly started talking about the Iljaria weapon.

“To be frank, Astridur—” She gives a little laugh. “Why do I get the feeling that that isn’t your real name?”

I grimace, and she studies me intently for a moment before laughing again, like it doesn’t matter.

“To be frank,” she repeats, “the imperial army will be here by summer. They will seize Daeros and absorb it into the empire. And then they will turn their gaze on Skaanda.”

I want to poke at her more, press her to talk about her father’s plans for the Iljaria weapon. But I can’t do that without admitting that I know about it, too. “Why are you telling me all this?” I ask her.

“Because Ilikeyou, Astridur, because I believe in the Skaandans’ bid for peace, and I wish very much it could come to fruition. Because whatever my father’s philosophies, I have not his hunger for more land and people to rule. And because there is a chance—only a chance, mind you—that if the Skaandans send proper tribute to my father, he will stay his army and let them become an independent province instead of an occupied one.”

It’s my turn to laugh—there isn’t a chance in hell that Vil and Saga would agree tothat.

Aelia waves one hand dismissively, her eyes boring into mine. “But most of all, Astridur, I am telling you this because I have a personal mission I mean to achieve sooner than the summer.”

“And what’s that?”

Her face grows tight with anger. “Putting an end to Kallias’s Collection.”

My gut twists. Gods’ bones, I’m going to be sick again.

She sees it; she softens. “You’re part of the reason I’m here, you know. I refused to leave that acrobat to her fate, locked like a parrot in a cage. I’m glad you got free. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

I try to smile, but I can’t manage it. “Do you think he knows?” I whisper.

“Kallias? About you?” Aelia shakes her head. “Do you think he’d let you stay here, alive and unchallenged, if he did?”

“Maybe. He likes his games.”

Aelia puts her hand on my shoulder. “Then let’s beat him at this one. You have my support, Astridur, for the duration of Winter Dark. I am on your side.”

I hear thefor nowthat she doesn’t speak.

“What about the Iljaria?” I ask her. “Does your father mean to conquer them, too?”

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