THE ENVOY'S QUESTIONS

CHAPTER 42

The envoy sat across from us with the careful stillness of someone who knew more than he intended to reveal.

His questions had been polite from the beginning. His expression remained composed, his voice measured, and his posture perfectly diplomatic.

Yet every question circled the same unspoken concern.

How much did Mira Vale know about what she was becoming?

"Miss Vale," he said, folding his hands over one knee. "How long have you lived at Blackthorn?"

"You already know that."

"I prefer to hear it from you."

"Since spring."

"And during that time, have you undergone any unusual examinations?"

I studied him.

"Define unusual."

"Anything beyond the ordinary care a surrogate would receive."

"The Alpha's physician looks after my health."

"Has she noticed any changes since your arrival?"

"My pregnancy."

"Besides that."

Roman leaned forward.

"Alpha Draven's household is not an open ledger. Her private affairs are not subject to diplomatic inspection."

The envoy turned toward him without haste.

"Forgive me. My pack has a legitimate interest in developments that could affect relations between our territories."

"Then state the development."

"I'm gathering information."

"You're gathering her."

I saw it immediately.

Roman's protectiveness was giving the envoy exactly what he wanted: proof that his questions touched a nerve.

"Roman," I said quietly.

His jaw tightened.

I turned back to the envoy.

"If your pack has a question for me, ask it directly. I'm sitting right here."

His attention returned to me. For the first time, his expression changed slightly, as though he hadn't expected me to take control of the conversation.

"Of course. Have you heard the word Moonborn?"

My pulse jumped.

Kase's warning returned to me: the people who heard the word first might not have good intentions.

I thought of the brittle page preserved in its plastic sleeve, the missing section of text, and the letter that had arrived from Ashfell.

I kept my hands still.

"I've heard many words since I came to Blackthorn. You'll have to be more specific."

"About what?"

"About what you want to know."

"What do you know about the Moonborn?"

"What do you know about it?"

A flicker crossed his face.

"I asked first."

"And I'm asking why."

"Because your letter described me as a subject of concern," I continued. "It referred to my nature, not simply my relationship with the Alpha. Why?"

The envoy's mouth tightened.

"Unconfirmed reports have raised questions."

"From whom?"

"I'm not at liberty to disclose my sources."

"Then I can't be at liberty to answer you."

For the first time, his composure slipped. Only slightly, but enough for me to notice.

He tried again, softening his tone.

"Have you experienced any unusual physical changes? Anything that might explain the reports?"

"Miss Vale doesn't have to" Roman began.

"Roman."

I turned toward him.

He met my eyes.

For a moment, I could see the effort it took not to interrupt, not to step between me and the questions simply because he was afraid of what they might reveal.

Then he leaned back.

"Go on," he said quietly.

"Thank you."

I faced the envoy again.

"Rumors aren't evidence. I won't discuss private medical matters simply because another pack finds them interesting."

"Refusing to answer may increase their concerns."

"If you have evidence of a threat, present it. Don't ask me to defend myself against speculation."

He smiled thinly.

"Then perhaps I should ask something different. Has Alpha Draven withheld information about your condition?"

Roman's head lifted sharply.

"That"

"Alpha Draven and I decide together what information to share," I interrupted. "You won't find a gap between us by asking the same question in different ways."

Silence settled over the room.

The envoy blinked once.

Roman said nothing, but I noticed the change in his posture. He wasn't preparing to answer for me anymore.

He was allowing me to answer for myself.

"I only wish to understand," the envoy said, recovering his composure. "The return of an old bloodline could shift the balance between packs. Alliances. Succession disputes. Even established territorial agreements."

"Has Mira threatened any of those?" Roman asked.

His voice was almost gentle.

"No direct threat has been established."

"Then what are you afraid of?" I asked.

"Prudence isn't fear."

"What is it, then?"

He didn't answer immediately. His fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair.

"These are uncertain times," he said at last. "Our elders have been reviewing old alliances in light of recent reports."

The room went quiet.

"Reviewing old alliances," I repeated.

"A figure of speech."

"Reviewing them because of rumors about me?"

"Because of regional concerns."

"Which concerns?"

"Stability. Leadership. The possibility of unexpected change."

Roman's expression hardened.

"Are you withdrawing from your agreements with Blackthorn?"

"No decision has been made."

"But the possibility has been discussed."

"My elders have not reached a position."

"That isn't a no."

"I cannot speak for their final decision."

I watched the envoy carefully.

He hadn't come to offer reassurance. He'd come to determine how much we knew, how much we suspected, and whether the rumors about Mira had enough truth behind them to justify a change in Ashfell's political position.

"You came here to see how much we know," I said slowly. "You wanted to find out whether I understood what I might be."

His gaze remained on mine.

"So your pack could decide where to stand."

He didn't answer.

His silence was enough.

"Who gave your elders the information?" I asked.

"Sources they consider credible."

"Did those sources provide the exact wording in your letter? Extraordinary and feared."

His fingers stopped tapping.

It lasted less than a second.

But I saw it.

"I've already explained that I'm not at liberty to discuss my sources."

"Do your elders possess copies of the old texts, or have they received only descriptions?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know."

"My role in this matter is limited."

"Is it?" I held his gaze. "Or are you simply being careful about what you admit?"

The envoy rose.

His expression had cooled, and the polite warmth he'd worn at the beginning of the meeting had disappeared.

"Thank you for receiving me, Alpha Draven."

Roman stood as well.

"You're welcome."

"My pack has no interest in conflict."

"Then I trust your actions will reflect that."

The envoy bowed.

Then he turned toward me.

His voice dropped, becoming quieter and almost kind.

"My pack has no interest in conflict, Miss Vale."

"Is that reassurance or a warning?"

"You should understand it as an opportunity to avoid misunderstandings before they become difficult to correct."

I held his gaze.

"Misunderstandings are usually easier to avoid when people tell the truth."

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then he bowed again and left without waiting for an answer.

The door closed.

Roman and I remained where we were.

"That phrase," he said finally. "I've read it before."

I turned toward him.

"Which phrase?"

"That they have no interest in conflict."

"Where?"

"In old diplomatic records. It's often what packs say before they stop answering your letters."

He rubbed his jaw, his expression grim.

"First they question existing agreements. Then they delay patrols. Then they reduce trade or withdraw support from border settlements. They never formally declare hostility. They simply make isolation look like a coincidence."

"So they don't have to fight us."

"No. They only have to make everyone else afraid to stand beside us."

I lowered myself into the chair.

My knees had finally remembered they were shaking.

"I didn't know I could do that," I said.

Roman looked at me.

"Do what?"

"Talk back to him."

"You were magnificent."

"I was terrified."

"It didn't show."

"It showed in my hands."

"Only to me."

A pause settled between us.

Then Roman added, "You asked the right question. He reacted when you mentioned the wording of the letter."

"He knew something about it."

"Or he knew more than he wanted us to believe."

"Those aren't the same thing."

"No," he agreed. "But either way, we have something to investigate."

I glanced toward the closed door.

"Do you think Ashfell is responsible for spreading the rumor?"

"I think they're interested enough to investigate it. That doesn't make them the source."

"Could they be working with whoever sent the first report?"

"Possibly."

"Could Kase be involved?"

Roman considered that.

"I don't know."

I appreciated that he didn't pretend otherwise.

"We need to find out where that phrase came from," I said. "Not just who is repeating it."

"Agreed."

"And I want to see every record you have that mentions Moonborn."

His expression tightened slightly.

Then he nodded.

"You will."

I searched his face, looking for the hesitation that would tell me he was already deciding which documents were too dangerous for me to read.

I didn't see it.

Not this time.

We sat there until the light began to fade. Servants came and went, candles were lit, and the household settled into an uneasy silence that seemed to seep through the walls.

The political threat had become harder to ignore.

But the question that frightened me most was simpler.

If people beyond Blackthorn were already searching for the Moonborn heir, what would happen when they discovered who she was?

That night, Roman came to my room and closed the door behind him.

He didn't speak immediately. He stood near the door for several seconds, his hands resting at his sides, as though he were trying to decide how much of his fear he could admit aloud.

"I thought the council would be the worst of it," he said at last.

"So did I."

"I was wrong."

I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you regret it?"

His eyes moved to mine.

"Regret what?"

"Choosing me publicly. Knowing what it might cost you."

"No."

The answer came without hesitation.

"I regret that people will use it against us," he continued. "I regret that something that should have been private and ours has become a political weapon. But I don't regret choosing you."

I looked down at my hands.

"I'm frightened."

He crossed the room.

"Of what?"

"That people are making plans around something I don't understand." My voice cracked. "I don't know what I am, Roman. I don't know what Moonborn means, what this bloodline is supposed to be, or why anyone would fear it."

I swallowed.

"But everyone else seems to have already decided what I'm worth."

He sat beside me.

For once, he didn't rush to reassure me that he could solve everything.

"I can't promise to stop everyone who comes looking for you," he said. "I can't promise that our enemies will be reasonable or that our allies will remain loyal."

"I know."

"But I can promise that I won't shut you out. I won't decide what you're allowed to know because I'm afraid of what you'll do with the truth."

"Even when your first instinct is to protect me by hiding things?"

"Especially then."

"Say it again."

He turned toward me fully.

"I won't hide things from you. Not to spare you. Not to spare myself."

I studied his face.

"Okay."

"I mean it, Mira."

"I know."

His hand found mine.

I leaned into him, and he drew me close. His arms settled around me without the familiar tension of someone preparing to shield me from the world.

For a little while, I let myself rest there.

Then he spoke.

"This isn't just about us anymore."

I lifted my head.

"The whole supernatural world is starting to pay attention to you."

I looked toward the dark window.

Somewhere beyond Blackthorn, people were discussing a bloodline they believed had disappeared. They were reviewing alliances, sending envoys, and deciding whether the possibility of my existence was dangerous enough to change their political loyalties.

I still didn't know what they thought I was.

But I was beginning to understand that the answer might determine whether they wanted to protect me, control me, or destroy me.

And I had no intention of letting them decide my future before I knew the truth about myself.