The empire and the Kaelith — a civilization beyond the eastern sea — have been at cold war for a century. Now both sides want a treaty, but there's a problem: the Kaelith language is alive. It shifts meaning based on the speaker's intent, emotion, and even heartbeat. Misinterpretations have started wars before. The empire's only fluent translator, a woman named Lith who was raised Kaelith and taken as a child, is pulled from academic obscurity and told she'll be embedded with the imperial envoy — Prince Hadran, fourth in line to the throne, a soldier who volunteered for the posting because no one important wanted it. She's his voice in every negotiation. He can't say a single word without her. The Kaelith delegation trusts her more than they trust him, which is exactly why the imperial court *doesn't*. And when the treaty talks start going wrong — sabotaged from the inside — both sides blame the translator. Because if you control the words, you control the war.