Tempered Hearts (Hearts of Valentia Book 1) by Starla Huchton, S. A. Huchton Page A

managed to pull itself together to unite behind a single candidate, they backed down immediately.”
    Arden set her cup aside and wandered behind the desk to the map hanging on the wall, studying the areas the Torn Ones still occupied. Darius watched her face from the side, almost seeing the gears in her head spinning and whirling with thoughts. She rested a finger against a large section that included the cliffs of Fadenhold, squinting at the spot as though tiny print were written there. Her finger slowly slid down the map, from the land into the sea to the south, stopping at the Ailucian Island chain.
    “I wonder…” She removed her hand and crossed her arms as she backed away. “The Prasta used to hold those cliffs until the Canda War ousted them. They’re fierce warriors, by all accounts, and I believe they still claim those lands as their own. Have you considered approaching them with an offer of repatriation in exchange for helping the fight between the cliffs and Eramon?”
    “A deal with the Prasta barbarians?” Ingram scoffed. “Not likely. They only got involved at Orinda Valley because their islands were next in the crosshairs.”
    Darius leaned back and considered it. The Prasta had been banished from settling in Valentia for a hundred years already, but the lands taken from them had never appealed to any of the population. “It’s not actually a terrible idea, Ingram. Old Prasta lands don’t have any established settlements, and their banishment was primarily based on fear-mongering and misunderstanding. Their culture might be very different from ours, but they could be valuable allies if the Imperium gets it in their heads we’re too weak to resist a full-scale invasion.”
    Arden did her best to hide it, but she looked incredibly pleased he expressed agreement with her. She cast him a small glance as she retreated back to her seat. “I don’t know a lot about them,” she admitted as she resumed drinking her tea. “It’s difficult to find academic studies on people so opposed to outsiders.”
    “I had some dealings with them during the war,” Darius said. “I was part of the group that parlayed with them for battles. I have a deep respect for their culture, though it doesn’t suit me personally. They’re very strict in their castes and laws, and it doesn’t allow for much personal freedom, but their discipline on the battlefield is unparalleled. They’re not much for humor, either.”
    “Which is likely why you got on so well with them.” Ingram chuckled before tossing a wink at Arden, who answered with a small laugh.
    He ignored the comment. Arden’s suggestion took root in his mind, the potential for such a historical accord more appealing with every second. “Since I did develop a rapport with the Prasta’s Vaotin, there’s a chance he’d hear an offer from me, Ingram. It could be highly beneficial to all parties.”
    Ingram’s brow furrowed. “Neighboring lands won’t care for that, Darius. There’s too much mystery and fear surrounding the Prasta. Rumors about child sacrifices to demonic gods are the least of the tales people—”
    “You know as well as I do those rumors are untrue. Prasta celebratory chants aren’t overly pleasing to the ear, so I understand the confusion, but that isn’t at all what they do. Certainly they raise their children differently than we do, but they don’t raise them for slaughter.”
    “Their chanting sounds like children being murdered?” Arden said, staring with curiosity-filled eyes.
    “You’re aware of their horns, yes?”
    She nodded, raptly attentive.
    “Their horns grow from in front of their ears, circling around the base of the skull and protruding from the back of their heads. They’re hollow bones that join with the resonant chambers in their sinus cavities, so when they sing, the sound travels out and through there if their mouths are closed. The air spirals around the grooves inside the horns and produces a noise not