Nayl regards him quietly, humming to herself when he suggests that Iset will arrive soon. A glance over her shoulder, a snort. That’s, for now, the only indication of her impatience. Amet is fair company, kind and open, but she wants them both. Brennen boasted of their goals and their efforts. It’s her sway over Beqanna and her generosity to still let this land flourish even as she cups it in the palm of her hand. She could destroy it, if she wanted, but she admires Amet with a softer flash of her eyes when he answers her question with admitted hesitation. A meager grin touches the corners of her mouth. ”The finer details will be worked out, I’m sure,” her voice is more maternal with him, her poise relatively at ease.
But the peacefulness of their conversations concludes. Suddenly there is a clash of words, a play of dominance. Nayl blinks slowly in observance of Iset’s arrival, watching as she nestles against her brother’s shoulder. The vehemence in her voice is undeniable, but Nayl simply stands and listens. Her mouth twitches, almost holding back a bout of laughter, and her eyebrow lifts. ”No, no, Amet. You should never have to apologize for or babysit your sister. She should be smart enough by now to know how to carry herself.” A knife that buries into Iset, and yet Nayl says it in an almost eerily calm manner. Castile flinches.
But he replies to Iset, easily able to shove aside the political banter among them. Of course, he is here to learn, but his curiosity outweighs his necessity to be here. ”A pleasure to meet you,” he replies in a lower, gruff voice. A boyish grin cracks his stoic expression, brightening his mismatched eyes even for a moment. ”I’m Castile.” They are enjoyable, both of them, but he notes the subtle notes of disapproval – some admiration – in his mother’s voice. He peers up at her briefly, but his gaze can’t help but flicker between Iset and Amet.
”I suggest avoiding that fucking tone with me, girl,” even then, even as her barbed tongue lashes back, she is a cool as the eerie blackness of the deep ocean. There are monsters lurking beneath the glassy, calm surface. ”I trust that the two of you can work out a strong system here. Although I haven’t seen Brennen lately, I’m sure he is somewhere not far off. In addition to having him here, my son will also remain.” Castile’s ears swivel and a glance of surprise etches across his handsome face. He says nothing of course, refusing to object. ”There is little he can do in a matriarchal society.” She loves the boy, there is no doubt, but Nerine holds no promise for him.
”Additionally, I would like you to know of your additional security. Not only do you have Nerine watching over you – shielding you – but there is also Sylva, my second subkingdom. The forest is ruled by Djinni. By settling under my wing, you already have two strong allies.” A smugness sweeps across her, her heart pattering at the idea of how far she has come along, of her power stretching across Beqanna.
This is only the beginning, she muses.
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