Sylas laughed low in his throat, the sound more breeze than thunder.
"Then I'll pay in coin you value....plain words dressed only in courtesy. Congratulations, Stormborne.
Your marriage has given the court a better tale worth more chatter than any treaty we've ever signed."
"Treaties keep men fed," Valerian replied without turning. "Stories only keep them talking."
"Ah, but talking men are easier to read than hungry ones." Sylas angled his head, his platinum hair catching the morning light like spun silver.
"Still.....I applaud your courage. Even I, who court gusts and tempers for sport, never thought to wed a woman the gods let others call 'cursed.'"
A murmur rippled through the riders behind, though each pretended deafness. Valerian's eyes never left the road.
"The gods allowed a warning," he said.
"They did not forbid her. There is a gulf wide enough between the two to march a kingdom through."
