Foundation of Smoke and Steel

Chapter 166

Vivian A bloody, ridiculous, freaking brothel.

Vivian felt the word echo through her head like an insult that refused to fade. She was going to kill her little brother. Absolutely kill him. Slowly, if she could manage it without witnesses. How dare he try to drag her husband to a brothel, of all places?

Did he have no sense at all?

She stood very still, because if she moved she might actually do it. Her hands were clasped behind her back, fingers tight, nails biting into her palms as she stared straight ahead at the empty field and the distant, motionless lines of the Iron Tide. It would have been easier if something were happening—fighting, shouting, anything. This waiting was giving her far too much time to think, and every thought was getting worse.

A brothel.

She glanced sideways.

Ethan was standing beneath the pavilion, calm as ever, speaking quietly with Gavin about positioning and sightlines, as if nothing in the world were amiss. As if her brother had not announced, loudly and with enthusiasm, that he intended to take him somewhere filled with naked women and bad decisions.

Vivian’s jaw tightened.

Did Ethan think this was funny? Was he humoring Nathan? Why would he agree to that? Was he that hard up? In such desperate need of a female body that he would go somewhere to pay for intimacy? The idea sent a sharp, unwelcome twist through her chest that she refused to examine too closely.

And what escort could compete with her? None of them. Not to toot her own horn, but she was Vivian Li, the Crane of the Li House, the number one beauty of the Four Beauties of the Empire. Who could match her looks? In body? In Temperment? In appeal?

None of them. Not a single damn one then why...

She stopped. She knew why, of course she knew why...she glowered and ignored the thought.

Nearby, Nathan looked entirely too pleased with himself, leaning back with his arms folded and a grin that promised nothing good. He caught her eye and waggled his eyebrows.

She had an overwhelming need to stab something right now. She took one deliberate step toward him.

Nathan’s grin faltered. Just a little.

“You,” Vivian said softly.

“Yes, sister?” he replied, still smiling, though his shoulders straightened.

“When this is over,” she continued, her voice perfectly even, “we are going to have a very long conversation about boundaries in regard to my husband and what is absolutely not okay to suggest, especially in front of me.”

Nathan blinked. “Sister, I literally have no idea what you are—”

She held up a finger. He stopped.

“I am choosing,” she said, “to focus on the fact that there is an army in front of us. This restraint should not be mistaken for forgiveness.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

Anmei, of course, picked that moment to drift closer, amusement written all over her face.

“Oh, come now,” she said lightly. “It’s not as if a brothel is the end of the world. Some of them are quite educational and a lot of fun.”

Vivian turned slowly.

Anmei met her gaze without flinching, her smile lazy and infuriating.

Sophie made a small, exasperated sound. “Why are you discussing a brothel? And must you discuss this now?”

“Yes!” Vivian snapped, then forced herself to inhale and lower her voice again. “Well—no, actually, we don’t. Because if we do, I will forget that we are here to speak with orcs and remember only that I am surrounded by idiots.”

Nathan looked scandalized. “Sister! You’re not mad about the whorehouse, are you? That is crazy. Brother-in-law is a noble. That is pretty much a cultural given.”

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If looks could kill, Nathan would have been dead already. Yes, she was going to beat her little brother within an inch of his life.

Ethan chose that moment to look up. “Why do you all look so intense? Is there something you need to tell me?”

Anmei grinned like a madwoman while Sophie and Vivian both looked momentarily guilty. Vivian took a step away from Nathan, which he clearly noticed. Nathan just grinned as he looked at the three women and shook his head.

“Brother-in-law, you are seriously the best.”

Ethan looked confused. “Whatever you say, little brother. Watch for anything that could be hostile.”

Nathan snapped to attention.

Vivian felt her face grow too warm as her eyes found her husband. He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused.

Amused at her, apparently.

Damn this man.

She turned away as if checking their surroundings.

They had set the pavilion far enough from the walls that no one could accuse them of hiding, but close enough that the fortress still loomed behind them like a promise.

White cloth snapped softly in the breeze, its edges weighted with small stones so it would not lift or billow too dramatically. A low table sat beneath it, already arranged with a kettle, cups, and a box of dried tea leaves the mayor had insisted on providing. Everything about it felt almost absurdly domestic, as if this were a picnic rather than an attempted parley with an army that could tear the valley apart if it chose to.

Vivian stepped out and stood just inside the edge of the pavilion, hands folded behind her back, posture impeccable.

Beyond the pavilion, the field was crowded.

Gavin had insisted on visible strength, trying to find a fine line between aggressive and approachable. Li family cultivators were spread in loose formation across the front of Crescent Hyr, close enough to reinforce one another, far enough apart that their presence felt like a perimeter rather than a wall. Lucas moved among them, checking positions, murmuring corrections, the quiet competence of command settling naturally on his shoulders.

Serans stood farther back, shields grounded, expressions unreadable.

Anmei looked around at the setup, clearly amused.

“You know,” she said lightly, tilting her head toward Ethan, the fold of her robe open for his eyes, “this would be far more enjoyable if the orcs actually showed up. All this waiting is terrible for my complexion.”

Ethan, seated at the table and pretending very hard to be focused on the kettle, did not look up. “I’m sure the fate of the world will take your skincare routine into account.”

Anmei laughed, unbothered, stepping closer. “If I’m going to die in a field surrounded by monsters, I’d like to look good doing it.”

Vivian felt her jaw tighten.

Sophie, standing at her other side, shifted her weight, fingers clasped a little too tightly in front of her. “This is not a joke,” she said sharply.

Anmei glanced at her. “Of course it is. If it weren’t, I’d be nervous.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

Ethan finally looked up, his expression calm but firm. “Enough. We wait.”

Vivian had to admit that Anmei had a point. The waiting was the worst part.

But at least the most vulnerable were not here. The twins were inside the fortress, tending to Marissa, who was still seriously injured, and trying to contact Alaric and the Empire using something Ethan had created.

The twins were also pretty beaten up from their magic, so it was good they were not present. That had been Ethan’s one absolute line.

He had stopped them at the gates, calmly and firmly, ignoring tears, shouting, and a truly impressive display of indignation. Elise had accused him of treating them like children. Emily had demanded to know why everyone else was allowed to risk their lives and they were not.

Ethan had listened. Then he had said no. He had already warned them that he was going to have a hard time explaining to their parents why they were here, and that if they wanted to avoid punishment of the most severe kind, they would do exactly what he asked, or they would be on their own when he brought them back to their mother and father.

That had shut the twins up.

They were back inside the fortress now, furious, pacing, and undoubtedly planning to never forgive him for it.

Vivian exhaled slowly and forced herself to remain still.

Ethan’s seriousness made the situation tense. Her younger brother did not.

Nathan was now sitting on the edge of the pavilion, legs stretched out, sword across his knees, poking at the dirt with the tip of the scabbard.

“This is boring,” he announced. “If they’re going to attack, they should just do it. Or if they’re going to talk, they should hurry up. I skipped lunch for this.”

Vivian shot him a look. “This is a diplomatic engagement.”

Nathan brightened. “Great. Do you think they’ll bring food?”

Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose.

Ethan poured hot water into the kettle with deliberate care. The sound of it steaming felt almost obscene against the quiet of the field.

“They will come,” he said, as if answering all of them at once. “Or they won’t. Either way, we don’t move first.”

Anmei leaned closer again, lowering her voice just enough that it felt intentional. “You’re very calm about this. I like that.”

Vivian’s patience frayed.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” she said coolly.

Anmei smiled. “I enjoy many things.”

Sophie made a small, frustrated sound.

Time stretched.

The Iron Tide remained at a distance, their lines visible along the ridges, motionless enough that Vivian wondered if they were statues designed for some elaborate ruse. The thought almost made her laugh.

She was just about to speak again when movement flickered at the edge of her vision.

A single figure detached from the distant line.

He walked forward slowly and deliberately, unarmed save for a short blade at his belt. In his hands, raised high and unmistakable, was a length of white cloth tied to a spear shaft.

A scout—and apparently one that understood what a white cloth meant.

Ethan nodded at Gavin. “You owe me a gold bar.”

Gavin grinned and gave a mocking sort of bow.

Vivian straightened instinctively.

Nathan said quietly, interest finally sparking, “Well, damn. They do know what that means.”

Ethan stood, setting the kettle aside.

No one spoke as the figure approached, the white banner catching the light as it swayed gently with each step.

The waiting, at last, was over.