"You're not going out there."
Lysandra stood between Zen and the stairs leading down from the ramparts, her rapier drawn and her expression deadly serious.
"I'm just going to talk to him," Zen said calmly. "That's what you do in a contract dispute. You negotiate."
"My Lord, that man is a butcher," Captain Brence said in an urgent voice. "He's not going to negotiate. He's going to kill you the moment you're in reach."
"Then I'll stay out of reach," Zen said. "Look, we have one hour. I'd rather spend it trying to avoid bloodshed than preparing for it. If talking doesn't work, fine. But I'm not starting a war without at least attempting diplomacy."
Elara stepped forward, her hand on her sword. "Then I'm coming with you."
"No."
"My Lord…"
"If I walk out there with guards, it looks like I'm scared," Zen said. "It undermines the entire point of negotiation. I need to project confidence, not paranoia."
"You need to project survival," Lysandra snapped. "This is insane."
