The Stars and Green Magics [Sapphic and Nonbinary Epic Space Fantasy]

S1: The Truthspoken Heir - Chapter 25: For the Good of the Kingdom

"I worked in a high house palace for years, and I saw actual Truthspoken twice—that I know of. The way they interact with people is . . . strange. They're very attentive, even though it doesn't look like it at first glance. And they'll ease their words in and out of the conversation, like they're playing an instrument, not actually talking to people. It's all very subtle, and I don't think most people would notice it, except most of the high house nobles I'm around act like that, too. You start to see the patterns. So, do the Truthspoken have those same exact patterns, or are they now projecting what the high houses do as part of a deeper act? If I saw a Truthspoken who wasn't obviously a Truthspoken, would I know they were Truthspoken?"

--Anonymous89445-B7 in the chatsphere Valon City House Staff/Deep Musings

It was done. It was done and Dressa was having trouble breathing. Slow, measured breaths.

There was no going back. Was there? There was no going back?

Ceorre came around her desk and held out her hands. She seldom offered anything in the way of gentleness—it wasn't in her nature. But Dressa found herself taking the older woman's hands, found her throat burning, found it hard to swallow as the Truthspeaker squeezed tight.

"Dressa. You will do well. I know you will. And while these are the circumstances now, they might not remain that way forever. We'll proceed on the course we've laid out, but if it changes, if Ari comes back and we find a way and you wish it, we will do what we can."

No, that couldn't be right. Ceorre had said when a Truthspoken Heir was declared unfit—but her father wouldn't be declaring Arianna unfit. If Dressa didn't use the magicker attack as her only reason for Arianna to step down, it wouldn't be as sharp of an obstacle for Ari to return to. Dressa had a chance. If Ari came back and could handle being the Heir, she could get out of this.

Dressa's heart hammered.

But—Lesander. The engagement contract would absolutely state Lesander would marry the Heir. The Javieris would have it no other way. And the engagement contract had to be signed within the week.

Ceorre leaned forward, shaking Dressa's hands. "This will be your choice, Ondressarie. This is your choice from here out. You are the Heir. That will only ever change if you wish it to be so."

But that wasn't true, was it?

She stared up into Ceorre's dark eyes and knew it wasn't true. Ari had been the Heir, and that had just changed, and Ari hadn't wished it.

She wasn't on stable ground. She'd never be on stable ground—that wasn't in any Truthspoken's future, let alone an Heir's.

But Ceorre's eyes shone with as much truth as Dressa could read in them. Ceorre was serious. Deadly serious. What had just happened to Arianna would not, within all of Ceorre's power, happen to Dressa. And what was she supposed to make of that? Did Ceorre actually favor her as the Heir? No one favored her. She was hardly a functional Truthspoken, according to her father.

"Do you wish me to call Prince Lesander here?" Ceorre asked.

Dressa shook her head, withdrew her hands. "No. No, I'll—I'll go and see her."

She took a breath, one more thought. "I know the agreement with the Javieris is important politically, but—how important? What will happen if—" If Lesander took objection to her, or to the situation, and didn't agree to get engaged to and eventually marry her. Her stomach clenched at the thought. But Lesander would have to agree, wouldn't she? Their families had negotiated this contract for weeks, or even months now, or even years? She had no idea how long her father had been planning this. And Dressa actually liked Lesander, where Ari hadn't. They had maybe the smallest bit of a chance at happiness. Surely that would count for something.