The council chamber felt smaller than it had the day before.
Not because of its size.
Because of the subject.
King Lusweti sat at the head of the carved table, posture composed, fingers lightly interlocked. To his right sat Khisa. Across from them, Prince Tadesse of Abyssinia.
The scribe waited again in the corner.
This time, no pleasantries preceded the discussion.
Tadesse spoke first.
"Your Majesty," he began formally, "Abyssinia holds this alliance in the highest regard. Our cooperation in trade and war has proven fruitful. My father, the Emperor, wishes for this marriage to strengthen that foundation, not complicate it."
Lusweti nodded once. "As do we."
Tadesse inhaled slowly.
"There are, however, expectations rooted not in politics... but in faith."
Silence stretched thin across the table.
Khisa did not move.
"Abyssinia is a Christian kingdom," Tadesse continued. "Our Emperors are anointed by the Church. Royal marriages are sanctified before God. Without that blessing, a union is not merely incomplete, it is unrecognized."
Lusweti’s gaze sharpened slightly.
"You are requesting conversion?"
"No," Tadesse answered immediately. "The Emperor does not demand that Prince Khisa abandon his people’s traditions."
A small but deliberate distinction.
"However," Tadesse added carefully, "the Church will not accept a marriage it does not bless."
Khisa spoke at last.
"Conversion is not under consideration."
His tone was calm. Final.
Tadesse’s gaze held steady.
"A Christian rite will be required. Public. Before ordained clergy. Princess Azenet is not merely my sister, she is a symbol within our kingdom. Anything less will be rejected by the clergy."
"That is reasonable," Lusweti said. "A blessing with your chruch will honor her faith."
Khisa nodded once.
"Then we will hold two ceremonies," he said. "One in Abyssinia according to your tradition. One in Nuri according to ours. I respect Azenet and her faith, it is only right."
"That would be acceptable, I suppose the details will have to be ironed out when you go to Abyssinia to speak to the elders." Tadesse said nodding slightly.
He inclined his head slightly.
"There is more."
Of course there was.
"The clergy will require assurances regarding future heirs."
The air shifted.
Khisa leaned back slightly, expression unreadable.
"In what manner?" Lusweti asked.
"Any child born of this union," Tadesse said steadily, "who stands to inherit Abyssinia must be raised within the Christian faith. Educated by Church scholars. Confirmed by the clergy."
Khisa’s voice remained level. "You are the direct heir to Abyssinia’s throne, that stands to reason that, your future children will inherit, I fail to see what this has to do with my future children, they will be Nuri’s heirs."
Tadesse did not hesitate.
"What you say is true, but since I have yet to marry or have children of my own. As rulers we must be prepared for any eventuality."
A thin line of silence followed.
"If something were to happen to me," Tadesse continued, "your son could inherit both thrones."
"And in that moment," Khisa said quietly, "he would be expected to kneel before a Church that never asked what he believed."
"He would be expected to uphold the faith of the people he rules."
Khisa nodded in understanding, "My children will be free to choose their own path, if they happen to be christian, that is fine by me. But they will not be tied down to such constraints."
Tadesse’s gaze held steady.
"Choice," he said carefully, "is a luxury the Church does not extend to rulers."
"And coercion," Khisa returned, "is not a principle Nuri recognizes."
The scribe’s quill paused briefly.
Lusweti spoke before tension could harden.
"Nuri was built upon the principle that no man is forced into worship," he said calmly. "We protect Christians. We protect traditionalists. We protect all who dwell within our borders."
Khisa held Tadesse’s gaze.
"And we are grateful for that," Tadesse replied. "But tolerance is not the same as endorsement."
Khisa’s eyes sharpened.
"You want endorsement?"
"We want stability," Tadesse answered.
"The Church fears ambiguity," he said. "It fears a Christian princess bound to a throne that does not publicly acknowledge Christ."
Khisa leaned forward slightly.
"We bled beside you," he said. "We liberated your ports. We broke slave routes. I personally sent my people to help you, the food your army eats comes from our farms.Was our faith questioned then?"
"This is not about battlefield loyalty," Tadesse replied. "It is about spiritual authority."
Khisa’s voice lowered.
"I have seen what happens when spiritual authority extends beyond its borders. We are not bound by the christian faith and are not expected to follow its rules. My people will not be forced into this."
Silence fell again, heavier now.
Tadesse continued.
"The Church will also request land grants. For churches. Tax exemptions. The right to govern internal matters without interference."
Lusweti’s fingers tightened slightly against the table.
"Autonomy within our borders?" the king asked quietly.
"Spiritual autonomy," Tadesse corrected.
"There is no such distinction when authority is involved," Lusweti replied.
Khisa spoke before the tension tipped.
"Churches may be built," he said. "Christians may gather. Clergy may preach, as is their right."
His voice was steady.
"But there will be no state within a state. No land beyond taxation. No religious court above Nuri law. That is a rule extended to all religions present within our borders."
Tadesse’s jaw tightened.
"That will not satisfy the bishops."
Khisa held his gaze.
"Nuri does not bend to foreign pulpits."
The words settled heavily between them.
For a moment, Tadesse looked less like a messenger, and more like a prince balancing two worlds.
"The Emperor may accept compromise," Tadesse said at last. "The clergy will not."
"The clergy does not command us," Khisa answered.
"No," Tadesse agreed. "But they command Abyssinia’s hearts."
That landed.
Lusweti exhaled slowly.
"These terms cannot be finalized here," he said. "Such matters require the Emperor’s presence."
Tadesse nodded.
"There is one final request."
Both men waited.
"The Church will require an oath. That you, Prince Khisa, swear upon scripture to protect Christians within your realm."
Khisa did not hesitate.
"I will swear to protect all my people."
"The wording will matter."
"It always does."
Silence lingered one final time.
Tadesse stood.
"I will present your positions to my father. There will be resistance."
"There always is," Lusweti replied.
When Tadesse left the chamber, the scribe followed quietly.
The doors closed.
Lusweti studied his son.
"If this alliance survives our differences," he said quietly, "it will be unbreakable."
Lusweti regarded him carefully.
"And if it does not?"
Khisa’s expression did not waver.
"Then it was never strong enough."