Chapter 229: Fracture XXXIV
"If we're done whispering to each other like confabulating children, shall we begin what we came here to do?" Ozra approached the central table that held the Koss board, gesturing towards it with casual aplomb, any indication that he was at all unsettled by the pre-negotiation maneuvering perfectly concealed.
Annette steeled herself and followed, coming to a stop across from the arch-fiend. She held there, making no effort to reach for the chair, expression muted and cold.
A minute passed. Then another. And another.
Finally, Ozra spoke, side of his mouth pulling up in a half smile. "For a people with roots so recently mired in savagery, you Uskarrions spare such pretense for pageantry."
"Have you negotiated with so many of us, my lord?" Annette asked, cocking her head to the side.
"A long time ago, before they bore the name. Simpler times. But it may surprise you to learn your brother did much the same." The arch-fiend spared me a sidelong glance. "Evaluated the room, the setting. Refused to sit as it would position his head below mine, reflecting a disparity in power that, while accurate, did not appeal to his vanity." His eyes slid back to her. "It did not help him any more than it will help you."
"I beg to differ." From behind, I saw Annette's thumb press into her hand, massaging her palm in idle circles. "A demonic summon, the support of a powerful and organized demonic legion as well as various boons and resources he eventually leveraged to solidify relations with a second, potentially more powerful ally. From all appearances, Prince Cairn secured exactly what he sought."
"At great price. A price many might argue to be foolish."
"I do not care for the arguments of the many. Just as my reticence to sit has nothing to do with dynamics of power."