It was tantamount to a command, but the girl showed no resentment. Not that Vyrtl expected anything so rash as outward reluctance—but a lifetime of piercing the flattery of courtiers had made him a shrewd reader of facial expressions.
He granted permission for an immediate broadcasting of the treaty, overriding Tzyfol's desire for deeper consideration in favor of Daphne Foster's plea that delay would cost lives.
After having copies of the rather simple document drawn up for the facsimile broadcasters, Vyrtl gave her leave to depart. Without seeming to watch, he admired her gait as she walked from the conference chamber.
fterwards, he left the generals to their post-mortem and retired with Wilkins to a private balcony for a bottle of wine.
"How did it go?" he asked, leaning back more comfortably when his aide had removed the heavy robe.
"You were most generous, Sire, or so I thought."
"It is a virtue that requires a public display now and then, to strengthen the roots of the myth that grows from it. Too bad old Tzyfol failed to see that. Why do you suppose he tried to be obstinate?"
"I expect, Sire, he disliked having an old woman seem to get the better of him after he had won the military victory."