March – Virelia Summit Hall, Day 3
New Territory
The morning haze had barely lifted when the car rolled up to the Virelia Summit Hall—a sleek, glass-panelled building nestled between ivy-wrapped embassies and polished courtyards. Banners of each attending noble family fluttered outside the entrance, a tapestry of clashing alliances stitched in silk.
Jay adjusted the cuffs of his jacket as they stepped out.
"First time at a table like this?" Christin asked, her tone light but knowing.
Jay gave a dry smile. "Unless the school cafeteria counts, then yes."
Christin looked over her clipboard. "Today is only the first round. Observation. The real battles come tomorrow."
"Great," Jay muttered. "Just warm-up threats today."
She didn't correct him.
Inside the Chamber
The summit room was a broad circular space layered with tiered seating and a central negotiation table flanked by twelve nameplates. One for each attending faction.
House Markov's seat was near the western curve. House Aldwynn had no formal seat but acted as a diplomatic bridge. Christin would float.
Jay's place was clear: observe, listen, support.
Arienne Duvall opened the session with sharp, measured grace. "Today is for introductions, frameworks, and intention setting. Posturing is discouraged. Precision is valued."
Which, Jay quickly realized, was code for: lie politely, don't waste our time.
Each faction introduced themselves.
Jay listened to the rhythm: who spoke first, who interrupted, who smiled without meaning it.
House Freycourt used poetic phrasing.
House Amsel leaned on economic metaphors.
House Bellarose—silent, but their bodyguard was twice the size of Jay.
By the time House Markov's nameplate gleamed under the overhead light, the room had already drawn conclusions.
Jay stood slowly.
"Jay Markov," he said clearly. "Here as a temporary envoy. Learning. Listening. Representing our intent to negotiate with clarity and respect."
Short. Safe. Solid.
Christin gave him the smallest approving nod.
III. Thin Ice
Midday negotiations began with access rights: air, sea, and underground resource lanes.
Jay sat back and watched as Christin moved through the room—subtle, balanced, calm.
Until House Amsel's advisor—Darian Voek—leaned forward.
"House Markov recently rerouted one of its private freight lines through Virelia's southern basin. A strategic choice, or a territorial warning?"
Jay glanced at Christin.
She remained unreadable.
"Neither," she said. "It was necessity. Storm damage in the East River quadrant made the previous route unstable."
Voek smirked. "Convenient."
Jay leaned in. "Storms usually are."
Chuckles around the table. Tension, briefly punctured.
Voek's eyes narrowed.
Jay met his gaze without blinking.
Christin moved them on smoothly, but Jay noticed the shift.
He was no longer just the shadow. They were watching him now.
A Window of Breath
During the short break, Jay stepped out onto the glass terrace for air.
Christin joined him, sipping from a small bottle of sparkling water.
"You handled Voek well," she said.
Jay exhaled. "He's just trying to find a crack."
Christin looked at him. "Then don't give him one."
Jay studied her. "You make it look easy."
"It's not," she said softly. "But it gets easier when you're not alone at the table."
Their eyes met.
The moment stretched.
Then she added, "We have two days to prove we're not just figureheads."
Jay nodded. "Then let's give them something to worry about."
Echoes of Evening
They returned to the hotel just past sunset.
Neither of them spoke during the ride.
But the silence wasn't heavy. Just full.
Back in their suite, Jay dropped onto the couch.
Christin sat nearby, unlacing her boots.
"Tomorrow," she said, "we push. We make a formal proposition to merge trade oversight protocols."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "And that means?"
"That we suggest a model where no single house controls the lanes."
Jay blinked. "Won't that piss everyone off?"
"Yes," she said calmly. "But only the ones who expected to dominate."
Jay leaned back. "You're terrifying."
She looked at him, amused. "And yet you're still here."
He didn't reply.
He didn't need to.
They both knew this wasn't just about politics anymore.
It was about trust.
And step by step, they were building it.