Kalie clutched her head, but gods above, it made sense. For a throne, her greedy, arrogant, spiteful sisterwould do anything. She should’ve seen the signs. The dark bags under Selene’s eyes, her sloppy makeup, her lifeless voice. Kalie clenched her teeth. When Selene had checked her chrono, she must’ve known the attack was imminent, and she’d abandoned them all anyway.
“Traitor,” she spat.
“That’s not all.”
Mira’s pause hung heavy in the air, but Kalie couldn’t look at her. She clasped her trembling hands in her lap, forcing herself to breathe. The room’s sharp, sterile scent flooded her nostrils. The absence of Dali’s floral aromas or the permanent scent of smoke on Etov was a reminder of how unspeakably wrong everything was.
Not my family. Please not my family.
Or her friends. Or her people.
“Carik’s fleet launched for Dali. It’ll arrive in eight hours.”
Kalie didn’t flinch. She couldn’t move even if she tried.
Eight hours.
She was surely supposed to feel something, but as she stared down at her hands, she felt nothing at all. Zane swore, and something shattered, but it sounded distant, like it was happening somewhere else. Anger didn’t burn in her heart, grief didn’t threaten to swallow her whole, vengeance didn’t sing in her blood. There was only a hollow ache in her chest.
They were supposed to have three days. Not eight hours.
“How many fleets?” Zane’s voice sounded impossibly far away.
“As far as I can tell, one. But that’s thirteen battleships, and you know one of Carik’s ships is worth three of Gar’s.”
Gar. Kalie latched onto the name like an anchor and raised her head.
“Where is he?”
Mira twisted her ring. “He’s meeting with your allies. They’re discussing the next move.”
“That’s good,” Zane said, “right?”
But Mira stared at the floor, and whenever she fidgeted with that ring, it never seemed to mean anything good.
“They’re not planning to liberate Dali,” Kalie breathed.
Mira shook her head.
“They’re not going after Carik, either.”
“Gar and Akron want to.” Mira’s lip curled. “The rest are cowards.”
All too easily, she could imagine the scene playing out in Gar’sconference room. Bickering delegates, fearful allies trying to back out, uncontrollable commotion, and Gar at the head of the table, barking orders to corral them. He would fail. They would always fail. Even the best leader would never win support through orders and demands.
Kalie lurched to her feet. Jolts shot up her shin, and a dull ache burned in her thigh. Letting out a low hiss, she clenched her teeth and leaned against the mattress, letting the pulsing recede. Just a moment, then she would go make one last plea.
“Hannover?” Mira stepped towards her.
Zane caught her hand.
Kalie looked at the scars and calluses on Zane’s knuckles, the veins and muscles bulging against his skin, the metal beads tucked under his shirt.
She met his eyes and said, “Not wanting to fight doesn’t make someone a coward.”
A deep furrow creased Zane’s brows.
“I have to finish this, but I understand if you don’t want to join me.”
