"You must consider this a possibility. The whereabouts of this moon on which you claim exile have been leaked off-planet. My men intercepted it before it went to Anshan, just as they've intercepted other messages from Anshan directed to someone here."
"There are hundreds of thousands of my warriors here," A'Ran said. "Why do you think it's Ne'Rin?"
"He has direct access to you and the most to gain. You forget: I am not a warrior bound by honor but a diplomat accustomed to undermining others," Jetr replied. "Ne'Rin does his part to prevent you from suspecting him. As an observer, I can tell you there's a great deal of motivation for someone in his position to betray you."
The words stung. If they came from someone other than the man who'd supported his father and grandfather, he'd disregard the warning and have the messenger killed. But this was Jetr warning him. Jetr was stacking a new problem on a pile of other problems he couldn't deal with.
"Brother?"
They both turned at the soft voice. His youngest sister, Talal, stood in the doorway to his war quarters, her gaze hopeful.
"Not yet," he said, aware of what misery he was bringing his sisters. They'd been praying that the last three women would yield his nishani.
His people's hope had turned to desperation in the hands of the Yirkin when every sun-cycle passed and there was no nishani. From the dhjan came strength and stability; from the nishani, restoration and healing. His planet was dying without either, and many had begun to accept this was the planet's fate. He was helpless to find her. He had to wait for the fates to bring his nishani to him.
Talal's face fell, and he had no words to offer. He'd already broken promises of finding his lifemate by his thirtieth, his thirty-first, his thirty-second birthdays.
"I'll think on what you've told me," he said, turning to Jetr. "Promise you'll barter my freedom if Qatwali imprisons me on this peace mission."
"I'll do my best. If that doesn't work, I'll take your sisters to my planet," Jetr answered. "It's all I can offer."
A'Ran nodded in agreement, knowing it was the best he could do. He had a feeling Kisolm, the crown prince of Qatwal, would not even hear him out but would view his attempt to barter peace as a sign of weakness and keep him as a trophy.
"Talal, send Ne'Rin to the practice fields."
His sister hurried away. Jetr bowed his head, sensing the dismissal. A'Ran left the command center for the practice fields, the area behind the dwelling where his men fought. He stepped into the bright sunlight and withdrew one of hundreds of grey swords housed in small racks along the back side of the dwelling. The field was empty, his men preparing for another space battle.