The envoys rose in a bustle of scraping chair legs and sharp remarks and departed, leaving only Caladnei, Ruha, and a dozen Purple Dragons in the room with Galaeron and Alusair. The princess motioned them all toward the door.

"You, too," she said, standing and starting down the table toward Galaeron. "I am in no danger here."

Though their faces clearly showed their displeasure, the others knew better than to question Alusair’s ability to take care of herself. They followed the envoys into the anteroom.

When they were gone, Alusair sat down at Galaeron's side and clamped a well-callused hand on his slender knee. Though she was not squeezing, he could feel strength enough in her grasp that, had she wished, she could have broken his bones.

"Elf, what am I to do with you?" she asked. "You are your own worst enemy… and yet, I can't say things would have turned out any differently if you were not."

Galaeron's heart fell.

"Then you are going to betray Evereska?"

"No, not Cormyr. That I promise," Alusair said. "But I'm afraid we won't be helping, either."

"You're leaving us on our own?"

Alusair looked across the chamber and said, "I didn't really think it would be possible to negotiate Evereska's safety, but…" She let the sentence trail off, then shook her head and turned to look at Galaeron again. "Diplomacy is the art of the possible, Galaeron-and there's nothing we can do. You must know that."

A surge of dark anger started to rise in Galaeron, but it was not difficult to fight down. He did know. Alusair was telling him the truth, and that was what friends did in circumstances like these. He took her hands.

"I know. Thank you." He glanced toward the door, then added, "It was Alduvar Snowbrand."

Alusair frowned in confusion. "Alduvar?"