Time rolls by slowly for you. Days trickle past you while you do nothing but burrow yourself in your chambers to study.

You have your spot at the negotiation table, but that doesn 't mean that your work is done until your father arrives. And the closer the day of his arrival gets, the more you feel that mild sense of dread gaining a chokehold over your windpipe.

To be honest, you 're terrified. Of facing your father. Of testing your wings among seasoned veterans and diplomats. You, a dumb little princess whose word didn 't weigh for anything not six months back.

Thus, you spend all of your time outside meals in your room, huddled over a book trying to think of something, anything, to use as leverage during the negotiations.

There has to be something Novaryn is willing to give and Varsiko wants, enough so that they 'll let the slaves go upon your request.