Naeemah toiled over a pile of journals and records laid across the great table. She carefully set her quill back into its inkpot and massaged her temples.

Two months. Sixty, agonizing days had passed since her world turned upside down.

“‘Tis puzzling how you can stare at the same stacks of parchment for so long,” the source of her headache called from the door. “Should you not rest and refresh yourself?”

Naeemah’s ears flicked and she bit her lip, swallowing against her first response. Then her second. “Magni, if we do not straighten these accounts, the people of Asha will starve.”

Magni leaned against the doorframe and sipped from a glass of dark red wine. “So you have said. However, my learned techniques for cultivation will surely take root, if you will. Surely you trouble yourself for nothing.”

Anger flooded Naeemah’s veins. She stood from her seat and turned toward Magni, leaning against the table and crossing her arms over her chest. “Nearly every single one of our farmers informed you that your efforts are in vain. Your ‘techniques,’ as you call them, are not fit for the arid climates of Ichi Island.”

Magni ran a dark hand through thick dark hair, fondling one of the thin black braids that fell to his shoulder. Twin horns protruded from both sides of the top of his head, curling backward in a graceful S-shape. Glowing white irises studied Naeemah from beneath a tuft of his bangs, and a scale-like patterning beginning below his chin decorated his throat. “All but one, if you will recall.”

Yes. Khepri will say anything to earn a place in the vizier’s pocket, foolish man. Naeemah cleared her throat. “Khepri aside, if your knowledge fails us, we must purchase food from outlying cities or islands. Which takes much-needed funds.” Naeemah glanced over her shoulder. “Funds you decided would be best utilized on the expansion of the palace.”

Magni stole another drink. “More rooms and beds would allow for the caring of offspring.”

“Asha already has contingencies in place for the care of your children, Magni.”

“Away from their father. Where I am from, this is unacceptable.” He sighed. “Must we rehearse this conversation every single day? It is most tiresome.”

Naeemah grit her teeth and flexed her fingers against her palms. “It would please me to show you the books, sir, so that you may see, with your own eyes, the consequences your swift decisions and bold changes have wrought.”

Magni chuckled in a low baritone and polished off his glass before shaking his head. “Changes are necessary for improvement. Asha is improving; you shall see.” He wandered to a corner shelf where a decanter filled with wine and two fresh glasses awaited the parched. “However, it would bring me great joy to see your improvement, Naeemah.”

Naeemah’s eyes narrowed. She watched him open the decanter and pour two glasses. “What do you mean?”

“You work far too hard.” He capped the decanter and carried the glasses to the table, handing one to Naeemah before seating himself in the chair next to hers. “On the day I arrived, you informed me that you have freely given twelve years of your life to this palace.”

She pinched the glass but drank nothing. “To this island.”

“Right, of course. But, is it not time for you to step away from your post?” His gaze wandered from her face to her bare midriff. “What about children of your own?”

She suppressed a shiver and fought back the knots twisting in her stomach. Four men she had loyally ushered into the palace, helping them learn the traditions of Nyarlea, Ichi Island’s way of living, and assisted them in governing Asha to prosperity. During the brief interims between untimely passings, she’d acted in their place. For twelve years, she was respected and revered for her knowledge, teachings, and ruling. “Pardon my saying so, Magni, but I believe you should better your understanding of this world before disposing of an ally.”

“Ally?” Magni laughed as if her choice of title was utterly incredulous. “My only allies in this world are the other men I’ve yet to meet. Besides, you would not be disposed of, as you so tactlessly state. You may keep your personal quarters or move to the ones newly built.”

“Why do you speak of this as if a decision has been made?”

He grinned, twirling the stem of his glass between his fingers. “Think on it.”

You can’t do this to me. “I am not resigning my post.”

As if he didn’t hear her, Magni continued, “Speaking of allies. One of the men accepted my invitation to meet at last. We will host him here in the palace next week. Perhaps decide by then?”

Naeemah’s lips drew into a thin line. She glanced at the assorted papers and bindings on the table, then at Magni. Setting her untouched wine on the table, she covered her fury with a curt nod and left the room. She had to do something about the pounding in her head.

Not an ally. Shall we be enemies, then? Naeemah had changed into [Combat Mode], favoring the leather armor and dark fabrics over the bright, wispy silks and satins of her palace garb. She was stationed in the training grounds out back, whipping her set of throwing knives at a line of archer’s targets with lethal accuracy. I know more than one way to pierce a heart.

“Difficult day?” Eshe, one of the vizier’s attendants, appeared from around the corner. She cupped both hands beneath her very round belly, lifting it as she took a seat on a hay bale.

“Yes,” Naeemah replied, hurling another knife at a far-off target. The blade pierced the center with a satisfying thunk. “I thought the [Bishop] advised you to stay off of your feet.”

Eshe giggled and waved a hand in front of her in dismissal. “I’m off my feet every day. It is good to take walks now and again, I think. She’s very restless.” She curled her fingers over her navel, gently stroking the taut skin. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I’m sure she will be beautiful just like her mother,” Naeemah said, offering Eshe a small smile before flinging another blade.

“You’re always so kind. I don’t know how Asha will manage without you,” Eshe said quietly.

Naeemah froze. “Without me?”

“O-oh. I thought Magni had already told you.” Eshe chewed her thumbnail, avoiding Naeemah’s gaze. “He wishes to run things by himself. I’m so sorry, Nae.”

Sweat trickled down Naeemah’s spine, and her headache returned full force, pounding against her eardrums and assaulting her temples.

Shall we be enemies, then?

It was strange, sitting at the palace table with two men. Magni introduced the traveler as Cailu Raloquen, hailing from San Island. His yellow hair and ivory skin stood out against the rich browns and blacks of those living each day beneath the sun. He had long, pointed ears and a calculating disposition. Naeemah found him difficult to read.

“Your missive said you arrived two months ago?” Cailu asked, his tone level and his face expressionless.

“That is correct. There is much work to be done, but I am confident that I can change it for the better,” Magni boasted, toasting his drink to no one in particular. “Already we have made quite a few changes—”

“And this is?” Cailu interrupted, gesturing to Naeemah.

“My name is Naeemah. I am—”

“She’s the palace scribe,” Magni said.

How dare you? A sharp heat rocketed to her face, and Naeemah clenched her fists beneath the table.

Cailu watched her carefully. “I cannot imagine a simple scribe receiving an invitation to such a meeting of import.”

Naeemah kept her eyes on her empty plate and bit her tongue.

“Who are you, really?” Cailu asked again. Magni opened his mouth to respond, but Cailu held up a hand in a request for silence. “I believe she can answer for herself.”

Taking a deep breath, Naeemah replied, “I have helped maintain the palace, Asha, and Ichi at large for the last twelve years.”

Cailu nodded. “That is much easier to believe.”

“However, now that I have been named Vizier of Asha, I plan to take the affairs of the palace into my own hands,” Magni said. “I am eternally thankful for Naeemah’s service and wished to give her an apt send-off.”

Naeemah blinked, and her heart pounded against her chest. As Eshe had said, there was never a decision to be made on her part. Magni had decided for her long ago. She studied his careless smile and lackadaisical gestures. You will kill us all.

“I see,” Cailu said. “Well, then. Tell me of your plans to handle the increasing population of the Defiled?”

Magni fed Cailu the same, haphazard responses to questions regarding Ichi as he had to Naeemah. Words that sounded meaningful but were entirely empty. Ideas and promises that may have worked in other regions yet could never come to fruition in the barren deserts of Ichi.

You will kill us all. Unless I do something about it first. An idea struck her like a bolt of lightning. An idea that could very well see her banished, hanged, or worse. However, if it meant sparing the lives of thousands, she would gladly forfeit her own existence.

“Please excuse me. I will fetch us more wine,” Naeemah stood and marched to the kitchens.

The servants and aides were accustomed to Naeemah’s presence and appearance in all areas of the palace and paid her no mind. She weaved her way through the cooks and servers to find a fresh decanter of wine before walking it back to an unoccupied corner. From her [Cat Pack], she extracted a poison she’d used successfully for Encroachers—a bottle of it would certainly be enough to silently kill one man.

Naeemah uncorked the vial with trembling hands. He deserves worse. You’re doing him a kindness this way. Her pulse raced as she extended her palm over the decanter.

A warm hand caught her wrist, and a voice whispered, “I was right. You are in need of assistance.”

Naeemah jolted in surprise, nearly dropping the whole bottle into the wine. “Cailu! Sir!” she gasped. “I… I didn’t—”

“Do you know the punishment for killing a man?” he hissed.

The others in the kitchen took notice of the scene, their conversations halting and gazes averting.

Cailu released her with a rushed, “Not here.” He looked around the room and flashed them all a disarming smile. “Please be at ease, ladies. I only wished to check on Naeemah.”

Naeemah quickly corked and pocketed the vial, lifting the decanter and turning away from the crowd. “Will you tell him?” she murmured.

“No,” Cailu replied. “Let us speak after dinner. I have a proposal that may benefit us both.”