A few days after the Gate opened near the capital, the senior leadership of Holy Land sat around the council table to argue about what should be done with it, which they had been doing since morning.
"The Gate formed at dawn and has not moved since," the Knight Captain said with one gauntlet flat on the table, "so nothing has come out of it yet."
"Then we send people in before it stops being patient," the Swordmaster said, from a chair he had already pushed back to stretch his legs.
"Sending them blind invites slaughter," the Magic Master said, turning to face him, "because unknown internal mana kills a careless team before they understand where they are."
"Speak plainly," the king said, tapping one finger against the arm of his chair, "how strong must they be?"
"Nobody below four Shards enters first," the Magic Master said, "and if the Gate is worse than it looks, that line is what separates a retreat from a funeral."
Didi sat at the right hand of her father and counted how many of them had said the word slaughter since morning.
'That is the third time,' she thought, tracing frost along the edge of the table, 'though not one of them has been inside a Gate this year.'
"Treating every unknown Gate like an abyss is how we end up with fighters who are thirty before their first real wound," the Swordmaster said, leaning forward.
"Gambling with promising lives builds graveyards," the Magic Master said, without looking up, "so use your own students if you disagree with me."
"I do," the Swordmaster answered, which moved several ministers in their seats.
"Enough," the king said before either of them could make it personal.
"Your Majesty, send the strongest team we have and put the thing down before the city hears about it," an older minister said, clearing his throat.
"Half that team is the wall," the Knight Captain said, "so what answers the next problem while they are stuck inside?"
The question sat there unanswered until the table split along the same lines it always split along.
Some of them wanted speed, others wanted caution, while the rest found new words for the same compromise.
'They will do this until dark,' she thought, watching a minister sort papers he had not read, 'then do it again tomorrow with the Gate still open.'
"I want to go," Didi said into the first gap she could find.
The quiet came down over the table at a speed that felt rehearsed.
The Knight Captain turned first, then the Magic Master, then the ministers, while even the Swordmaster straightened as though something had finally happened.
"Your Highness?" one of the ministers said, staring at her.
Didi held every look on the table without turning toward her father.
"I said I want to go into the Gate," she said, keeping her voice at the level she used in lessons.
This time the silence had weight to it, until even the king turned to look at her.
"Didi," the king said, without any of the warmth he used at dinner.
"I am serious," she said, meeting his eyes, "so if the problem is that we keep sending the same four names every time, then send me as the fifth."
"No," the Knight Captain said, looking older than he had a moment earlier.
"No?" Didi asked, with her brows drawing together, "that is the whole of it?"
"That is the important part of it," he said, "the rest is that you are the princess, the Gate is unknown, and I am not putting my name against that."
"So if I were not the princess, you would consider it," Didi said, and she did not make it a question.
He waited a moment too long before answering, so the answer stopped mattering to her.
The Swordmaster spoke before the circle started again.
"You are talented," he said, and he did not say it the way the others had, "more talented than most academy children who talk about becoming legends."
Didi kept her face still because she knew exactly what came after a compliment in this room.
"But talent in a hall stays in the hall," he said, with one hand flat, "so inside a Gate there is no instructor to stop the match, no healer standing two steps behind you."
Didi looked at the grain of the table.
"And no second try, if your judgment goes wrong at the worst moment," he added, turning one hand palm up.
The Magic Master gave a small nod he did not enjoy giving.
"You are gifted, nobody at this table disputes that," the Magic Master said, "but you have never fought a battle where the other side wanted you dead."
"Training duels and spell assessments are not experience," he continued, with his hands folded on the table, "because one moment of hesitation kills everyone beside you."
"Then how am I supposed to get it?" Didi asked, sitting forward, "do I wait in the palace until somebody feels that I am ready?"
"Not here," the Knight Captain said at once, "not in an unknown Gate an hour from the capital, not while every guard in the city knows your face."
Another minister leaned in, relieved that somebody braver had opened the door first.
"Even setting the danger aside, Your Highness, losing you in there would shake the kingdom," he said to the table rather than to her, "which is a cost the crown cannot carry."
Every objection in the room ended at her title, so the talent they had all been praising for the last ten minutes never once got into the argument they were actually having.
'They are not wrong about the Gate,' she thought, pressing both hands flat to keep them still, 'though not one of them has argued with me about the Gate.'
"So that is the answer," Didi said, keeping her tone even, "my talent is worth praising while it costs nothing, then I am furniture the moment I ask to use it."
Nobody at the table answered her.
She had taken the academy rankings twice, though nobody present had watched her fight for her life.
Three Shards turned above her arm when she trained, one short of the number the Magic Master had put on the door.
'One short,' she thought, closing her hand until the cold came up through her fingers, 'and they would still be saying no if I had six.'
An older noble waited out the quiet before clearing his throat at the far end of the table.
"If the worry is spending royal strength, Your Majesty," he said, turning toward the head of the table, "then buy it from a house that has it to sell."
"The Great Families keep more talent than they use," he added, with both hands spread, "and one of them will hand us a team for the right price."
Nobody around the table liked where that pointed, though nobody could find the flaw in it either.
"Great houses do not move without weighing what they get," the Knight Captain said, souring, "so the moment we let one into a royal problem, they begin pricing us."
"Then they price us," the minister said, refusing to sit back, "because they have the strength, and this is the kind of thing they like attaching their name to."
The Magic Master looked toward the head of the table instead of arguing.
"If Your Majesty is willing to pay, they will come," he said, watching the king, "though I would rather not guess what they ask for."
The king had been letting the room run itself in circles for most of an hour without saying anything, so the sound of him sitting up straight in his chair took the table down to nothing.
"The Great Families do not lack money," he said, which moved several ministers upright, "so silver will not move them."
He stopped there while his eyes went along the table, one face at a time.
"There are other things they value more," he said, without hurrying any part of it.
Ministers leaned in, the Knight Captain did not, while Didi forgot she was angry for a moment.
"Contact the Flint family," the king said, resting one hand on the arm of his chair, "and tell them I have decided on the thing they asked me for."
Recognition moved across four or five faces at once, which told Didi the bargain had been sitting there long before this morning.
"What did they ask for?" Didi asked, turning in her seat toward him.
"Something I was not going to give them," the king said, rising out of the chair, "until a Gate opened where it did."
He left the answer at that, so the council rose with him without getting the rest of it.
'They are buying strangers to do it,' she thought, watching the doors open ahead of her father, 'and the Flints will send whoever costs them least.'