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“If you can’t share air, hold your breath,” Diomedes mutters to his sister

“We should not be here,” she presses “We’re not ambassadors I should be with the forward colad-handing sybarites”

Diomedes kneads the joints of his jaw

“We are what our leaders ask us to be,” he replies

“And if they told you to clean latrines again?”

“Then I would be beloved by all Browns And pray the mess cooks don’t serve Venusian food too often for supper”

She snorts at that

“This isn’t a dishonor, Sera I was chosen by the council to represent the Rim You were chosen by a consul It is an honor It is the honor”

“Even though you don’t believe in this war?” Her eyebrows craard “Well, don’t worry, brother I doubt you’ll see

Raa when a Copper would have sufficed We’re going to be hostages, even if this Core tramp decides she wants to ally with us before she sticks a razor in our backs”

“I rather think it would be poison,” Diomedes replies

Seraphina pats her brother’s cheek “Either way, you’ll be a fine hostage So good at following orders”

She stalks back to join the escort soldiers

“The Core isn’t like the Riossip “Blood bubbles from spilled wine”

“You worry that Seraphina will provoke someone into a duel”