It is better to settle with debtors than death, for one will always collect. Mydea sat with Tomas and Vivyan in one of the balconies of the Seraglio with a splendid view of the gardens below.

“Is there a form you favor?” Tomas asked Vivyan as he set up the six-sided board of Eminent Domain in the table between them. Only two of them would be playing, and so the long central axis was made of twelve tiles, decreasing by one as each row strayed further and stopping only when there were six tiles left.

“Without fog, and without terrain?”

“I thought you said she was the champion at the Thalassian Athenaeum?” Tomas asked Mydea.

Mydea shrugged. “She was, but I’m hardly the best judge of her skill. I barely know how the pieces work.”

Vivyan huffed. “This is our first game together, I thought it best that we keep things simple.”

Tomas sighed. “Very well. As you wish, Lady Vivyan.” He pulled out an Imperial Star and handed it to Mydea. “If you’ll toss the coin for us?”

Mydea took it in hand, flipped it in the air, then covered the result. She glanced at Vivyan. “Do you choose the sovereign or the star?”

“The sovereign,” Vivyan said.

Mydea lifted her hand, and it was the likeness of the Empress staring back at her. “It is the sovereign.” She settled into her seat and worked on her stitching, keeping one eye on their game.

“Ladies first then,” Vivyan said, as she placed down her crown and castle at the very back of the board, closest to herself. Losing either would lose the game, and so it made sense to Mydea’s eyes.

Tomas placed his nearer to the center, at the eighth rank. His pieces were perfect circles of alabaster marked with red ink, while Vivyan’s were of onyx. On they went, placing pieces on the board—a row of pikes at the tenth rank, with wings, slings, and lances to the sides. Tomas was massing his cavalry and ranged pieces heavily on his left side, and Vivyan matched his placement.

It was a depiction of an old way of war—this game with its massed pikes and deep ranks of mages. Were any lord to try this now, save perhaps Lord Eminent Morgraine, they would find their formations beset by storm or searing fire.

“That’s a strange formation you favor,” Vivyan said. “You expose your crown and castle to great danger by splitting off so many pieces.”

“Have you never heard the saying ‘never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake’?” Tomas asked.

Vivyan rolled her eyes and moved a pike one tile forward. “You and Lord Pythos conversed much yesterday,” she said to Mydea.

“Did we now? I didn’t notice,” Mydea said.

“What did he want?” Vivyan asked.

“For you to focus on your game,” Mydea said as Tomas swiped a piece from the board with his wings, before retreating it two tiles away.

That Vivyan did not curse told Mydea she was behaving for Tomas’s sake, and hoped to make a good impression on Prince Jaeson’s most trusted servant. “They really ought to change the rules around that piece,” Vivyan said.

“It is meant to simulate battle, or that is the spirit behind it at least,” Tomas said. “How well it succeeds is another matter entirely.”

“Still, jumping over pieces and moving twice? That’s just silly,” Vivyan said.

“That’s how pegasi actually are,” Mydea said, rolling her eyes. Only a child agreed to play a game, then complained about the rules as they were losing. Did protest alone ever accomplish anything of note?

A series of exchanges occurred over the board, and soon a quarter of the pieces were cleared off, leaving the pikes as more than half those left. Even to Mydea’s inexperienced eye, there was a clear imbalance in the position. Vivyan had more pieces, but Tomas’ were better placed. “Who’s winning?”

“Well, I have more pieces,” Vivyan said.

“That’s not what I asked,” Mydea said.

“I am winning,” Tomas said. “Her crown and castle are forced in eight moves.”

“And yours are forced in six,” Vivyan shot back.

“I think you’re forgetting something rather important,” Tomas said.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Crowns can leave the castle,” Tomas said, sliding his white piece out and back.

Vivyan blinked. “But that leaves your crown more open to attack? You would need to defend your castle too, less I capture it.”

“By which piece of yours?” Tomas asked. Mydea saw now why he had traded so many pieces for her wings earlier on. It was the only piece that could not be blocked from where it wished to go, and while Vivyan’s army would smash through Tomas’ defenses eventually, her own crown and castle were under attack. Losing either one would lose the game.

Vivyan fell quiet as she contemplated the board, eyes searching for a way out of her predicament.

A sharp, hoarse screaming brought Mydea’s attention elsewhere. Red-tailed hawks were flying in the distance, over one of the auxiliary clouds.

“Princess Mirah must be out hawking. She is an advocate of anything native to the Dunelands,” Tomas said. “Have you ever gone?”

“We do not have hawks so far north,” Mydea said. “She owns quite the flock.”

“Kettle,” Vivyan corrected.

“I beg your pardon?” Mydea said.

“The correct collective noun is a kettle of hawks, not a flock. Honestly Mydea, I forget you aren’t strawborn some days,” Vivyan said with a roll of her eyes. She sighed. “I resign.”

Tomas nodded. “Shall we play another round?”

“Please,” Vivyan said, clearing her side of the board.

“You know your birds of prey,” Tomas commented as they began setting down pieces once more. “Do you hunt much?”

“Only when the occasion calls for it,” Vivyan said.

“Vivyan is a Black,” Mydea said. “Her mind is like the bay her family guards.”

She looked at her sharply. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Mydea smiled back at her pleasantly. “Only that the mouth of Blacksand Bay is known to be wide, but lacking in depth.”

“There is one evil: ignorance. There is one virtue: knowledge,” Vivyan quoted the words of Syngian to her.

“Wise is she who knows useful things, not she who knows many things,” Mydea retorted without missing a beat.

“With a tongue as venomous as yours, is it any wonder you were without a single friend whilst we studied at the athenaeum?” Vivyan shot back.

Mydea quirked her brow at her. “Was it my tongue they truly feared?” Befriending those scorned by Lord Eminent Pleonexia was a sure way to share in the suffering, and bitter experience had taught her all too well that those few that dared extend a hand of friendship in spite of that might do so with other ends in mind.

There was never much time for deep friendship with no shortage of schemes and subterfuge to defuse. It hadn’t helped that Aspyr had been far too quick to draw steel when they were younger. That Kolchis today shared rivalry with a few select stoneborn instead of entire houses was evidence of her efforts, but while she’d had allies of convenience, she had never cultivated true friends.

“Is that how you comfort yourself?” Vivyan asked. “You never tried. Sincerity you gifted to your subordinates freely, but never to us stoneborn. Every word I ever heard from you was a calculated scheme!” Her mouth suddenly clamped shut, seeming to remember Tomas was still with them. She redoubled her attention on the game.

A mistake twice over, Mydea thought. Vivyan’s first error was to rebuke her at all, for it went against the “behaved lady-consort” act she was putting on for Tomas’ sake. The greater blunder of the two, though, was to cease her rebuke. The mask she wore was already stripped away; best to own up to that so that Tomas might think her simple, but straightforward. To be too stupid as to lose her temper at such a moment, and too duplicitous to be honest about it made her undesirable.

“The Tuskar raids are starting soon aren’t they?” Tomas asked, breaking the silence settling over them. “You told me they struck during winter.”

“You remember?” Mydea asked. “Yes, they’ll be starting soon.”

“A shame I could not see it for myself,” Tomas said with a sigh. He repositioned his sling, sliding it into his castle now vacated by the crown, much like he had during the last game only he’d done so much earlier this time. Vivyan mirrored his maneuver.

“I am starting to suspect your only interest in me relates to the barbarians,” Mydea said in an exaggerated manner. “Were I a less magnanimous lady, I might take offense that your curiosity is piqued by them instead of myself.”

“Alas, I am seen through!” Tomas said. “I confess I find the idea of war during winter a most curious thing. Even the skirmishes with New Thrage in the Primemarch cease during those months, and it is warmer by far down there. Magic eases many burdens, but not the iron law of logistics.”

Mydea rolled her shoulders. “The Tuskar are a different beast entirely from the armies of the Empire. You are welcome to study them, though I doubt understanding the answer will let one wage war like they do.”

“It’s your turn,” Vivyan interrupted.

Tomas glanced at the board for a split second before moving. Vivyan lapsed into a deep think once more.

“Is this position lost?” Vivyan asked.

“Not if I were playing myself,” Tomas said. “Unfortunately, there are no other players like me.”

Vivyan slumped into her chair. “Again,” she demanded.

“Modest today, aren’t we?” Mydea said to Tomas.

“Is it better to be modest or honest?” Tomas asked.

“I should hope the prince is not as good a player as yourself, or I have already lost my wager with Miryam,” Vivyan said.

“You’ll find that the prince and I are evenly matched,” Tomas said.

Vivyan groaned.

“Cheer up, Vivyan,” Mydea said, “you’ve hardly lost much. There was little chance Lord Pleonexia would have approved of any marriage between Prince Jaeson and any Deeplander.”

“He would have frowned on any marriage you might have made, but that does not apply to the rest of us,” Vivyan said. “The fates are truly cruel, to show me of what might have been and steal it from my eyes! I might have been the lady-consort to a prince of the blood!”

“This city brings out the worst in you,” Mydea said with an amused smile. “Your head was already up in the clouds, and actually being among them has only heightened those tendencies of yours.”

“How are you so sure that Lord Pleonexia would not approve?” Tomas asked.

“It’s simple,” Mydea said. “Each of the eight great regions have a candidate already, save for Nysia and the Deeplands. The first has an abundance of candidates to choose from, what with Her Highness’ children all being half-Nysian, but we Deeplanders have no candidate of our own, what with Prince-Consort Pythos having no children by the Empress.”

“I’ve always wondered why that was so,” Tomas said.

“He’s impotent,” Vivyan said, ever the gossip. “It is why he remained unmarried for so long, before the Empress chose him.”

“It is punishment,” Mydea added. “The Deeplands was one of the last great regions to recognize Her Highness’ rule, nor are we necessary to Her base of power when She has four great regions behind Her as well as the six athenaeums undivided and Aelisium.” Though that power bloc would not survive her, for the Dunelands, the Vaynish Plains, and the Heartlands each had kin which might bear the Starlight Crown upon her death.

“Is that not why a marriage between myself and Prince Jaeson would be favorable?” Vivyan asked. “To give the Deeplands a candidate of our own to support.”

Mydea shook her head. “He has learned the value of patience I should hope. Lord Pleonexia will wait before committing his support if he is wise.” It would not be the ultimate prize of having your kin bear the Starlight Crown, but the rewards for backing the winning side were not insubstantial.

“Your crown is killed,” Tomas said plainly to Vivyan as his crossbow struck the piece from afar. “Again?”

“Again.”