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When Duty Fractures Book Two of the Married-on-Mission Trilogy Chapter 1 ELARA The merchant prince was lying. Elara could feel it in her magic, that particular discord that came when someone spoke false words while standing within one of her truth wards. The sensation was like biting down on something rotten-sharp, immediate, impossible to ignore. It set her teeth on edge and made her magic writhe beneath her skin, demanding she call out the deception. She didn't. Instead, she shifted minutely in her seat at the negotiation table, careful not to let her expression betray what she sensed. Diplomatic poker face, Theron called it. Six years of practice had made it second nature. Across from her, Prince-Merchant Valco of the Copper Republics continued his impassioned speech about fair trade and mutual prosperity, his jeweled fingers gesturing grandly. He wore the traditional copper-threaded robes of his office, and the afternoon sun streaming through the chamber's tall windows caught the metal in his clothing, making him shimmer like a religious icon. His face was all righteous sincerity, his voice pitched perfectly to convey wounded dignity at the very suggestion of impropriety. But her magic knew better. Beside her, Theron was taking meticulous notes, his pen scratching across parchment with the steady rhythm she'd come to associate with his deepest focus. To anyone watching, he looked calm, scholarly, completely absorbed in documenting the negotiation. But Elara had been reading her husband's subtle tells for eight years now. She caught the almost imperceptible pause in his writing, the slight tightening around his eyes that meant he'd noticed something in Valco's words. Some historical discrepancy, probably. Some number that didn't match the records he'd been studying for weeks. They'd been in the Copper Republics for two months now, trying to prevent a trade war between the four merchant states from escalating into actual bloodshed. The situation was complex-layers upon layers of tariffs and trade routes and old grievances so thick that even Theron, with his gift for untangling historical messes, had needed weeks to map the full scope of the problem. And now, just when they'd finally brought all parties to the table, when peace seemed within reach, this pompous fool was lying through his perfectly maintained teeth about his city's stockpiles.

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