The Diplomatic Summit had officially transitioned from "Tense Standoff" to "Drunken Economics."
Elian stood behind Prince Cassian's chair, refilling the wine glass with a steady hand. He felt lightheaded, partially from the adrenaline crash of the quickie, and partially because he was now completely broke.
[Current LP: 0][Status: Destitute but Sterile.]
'Worth it,' Elian thought, patting his stomach where the invisible magical contraceptive was doing its job. 'I can be poor. I cannot be pregnant in a war zone. Priorities.'
On the other side of the table, the Head Councilor hiccuped. "Prince Cassian, we appreciate the wine. And the... entertainment regarding the Oakhaven Envoy. But the Neutral Lands cannot fund a war. It is bad for business."
General Marcus slammed his fist on the table. "Oakhaven marches on our borders! If we fall, they will control the trade routes! Your business will die!"
"Speculation," the Councilor waved a hand. "War is expensive. We prefer stability."
