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The king’s guards would force them to march. But those who were forced to go to war would never fight with the same fervor as those driven by genuine conviction.
For a king as far removed from his people as Regner, he understood them more than I’d expected. He’d made the threat of the fae and the hybrids personal. He’d made us dangerous to their lives. To their families.
How did we counter that? Sure, these mercenaries may know the truth, but that was because they were well traveled and had seen reality for themselves. How did we spread the knowledge?
And once the humans knew the truth, how did we return their power to them?
The men were still speaking. I’d missed whatever they had said next, and I forced myself to focus.
“Some of Sabium’s ships were spotted moving south a few nights ago,” Gray said. “I just heard it from a sailor while you were taking a piss.”
The world seemed to dim at the edges.
It was too soon. We weren’t ready.
Which was exactly why Regner was moving into position. He would ensure anyone who thought to ally with us learned of his fleet as it moved toward the Gromalian coast. It was also a warning to the Gromalian king, who must have agreed to allow that fleet into his waters.
We needed a fleet of our own. One that could rival the Eprothan and Gromalian fleets. But we also needed an army on the ground. My head spun at the implications. Regner was moving soldiers into position, while we were still scrambling to find allies.
I needed to get a message to Prisca. Now.
* * *
The flowers were suffering.
I’d spent years strolling through these gardens, admiring the colors, the scents, the soft petals, the resilience of the flowering buds.
On my worst days, the thought of checking on my roses was the only reason I had to summon myself from my bed. The gardens were ever-changing and yet comfortingly familiar, year after year after year.
My wispbloom roses, usually a dusky pink, were now spotted with brown in places, their petals curling at the edges. The lovely, if deadly, Nightmare roses should have been a vibrant crimson, their silver thorns as long as a man’s thumb. Today, their blooms held a touch of rot, their scent not quite as enticing as usual.
Beyond my roses, the delphiniums—usually towering majestically—now leaned drunkenly against each other, the bright-blue flowers barely clinging to their stems.
Fury slithered through me like slow-acting poison. I kept walking.
To my right, the wall of wisteria had fewer blooms than ever before, their leaves beginning to yellow. The golden trumpet vine was being strangled by the untrimmed tendrils of that wisteria, just as I was strangled each day in this godsforsaken castle.
I had no doubt Sabium was behind this. Just more of his slow torture.
“Your Majesty?”
I slowly turned. My ladies each took a large step back, eyes glued to my face. They huddled behind Lisveth, as if her innocent demeanor and childlike disposition could protect them.
My mouth opened as if entirely on its own, poisonous words on the tip of my tongue.
Panting sounded to our left, and a castle messenger sprinted down the garden path. His eyes were wild, hunted, and I knew exactly why.
Madinia had paid attention to my message. Sabium’s planned slaughter of the Gromalian hybrids hadn’t been successful.
Since Sabium was currently traveling to wherever he had hidden the hybrid heir, it would be his generals who were dealing with the aftermath. Each of them would be fighting over who would send the message to their king. Who would be unlucky enough to draw his ire.
I held out my hand for the message, forcing my expression into its usual amused neutrality.
The note was from Tymedes. The general dared imagine he could summon me, as if he were in charge here?
I swept my gaze over my ladies. Thankfully, they were no longer cowering like idiots. “Organize a carriage. I wish to go to the market. Now.”
Lisveth could move surprisingly quickly when she was appropriately motivated. Within minutes, we were seated in the carriage. No one spoke, leaving me to my own thoughts. What would be Sabium’s next move? Would this drive a deeper wedge between him and the Gromalian king?
