If he knows what I was about to say, he ignores it. He backs up a step, continuing to face me as he picks up his clothing and redresses. He didn’t have the opportunity to wash himself thoroughly. He was in the tub for less than a minute before trying to drown me, and our fighting would’ve only put my scent back on him.
If anything, he smellsmorelike me now.
I wait until he’s dressed, then make my way outside. I’m not satisfied with this interaction with Rexton, but that’s not a problem to solve right now. People are waiting for me, and Rexton and I will have time later to discuss the details of our relationship.
We’ll have time later for him to kiss me, too. I won’t allow him to put it off for much longer.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
CASSIA
ANDROL AND SEVERAL other men I faintly recognize are waiting for me. The leadership tent is smaller than the one Raum used, and it’s empty except for a small, round table. The wooden surface is already covered in maps and paperwork, probably reports from our scouts.
There aren’t any chairs. That’s typically not something I’d care about, let alone notice, but I exhausted myself trying to teleport to Rexton’s childhood home. It doesn’t help that I’m still not fully healed from taking a spear through the chest.
A chair sounds pretty nice right about now.
At this rate, I fear I’ll be more of a hindrance than an asset in battle.
“Cassia.” Androl waves me inside. “Welcome.”
He’s not using my formal title, but I don’t correct him. Aziel has always actively discouraged people from using his title, instead choosing for them to call him ‘Aziel.’ My mother is the same, and she goes as far as to have people call her ‘Charlie’ instead of her given name, Charlotte.
I won’t be the one to break the tradition.
There are four men inside the leadership tent, Androl included. They’re looking at me with varying degrees of interest, probably wondering what I’m doing here. My hair is soaked from Rexton trying to drown me. I should’ve changed into dry clothes before coming here, but I didn’t think to do so.
Androl introduces the four soldiers, ensuring I know their names and titles. I appreciate it, and I do my best to imprint the names into memory. These men are all high-ranking officers, and they hold significant sway over the general public. Their approval is meaningful.
I’ve always struggled to win over Wrath’s soldiers, mainly because Aziel refused to let me anywhere near them. He’s kept me hidden from anything remotely resembling war, and this is my time to make a good impression. I don’t know when I’ll be given another opportunity.
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I say. I gesture to the maps and paperwork scattered on the table between us. “What do we know?”
Rexton stands beside me, not saying a word. I was mildly nervous he’d try to lead this meeting, that he’d take it upon himself to speak for me as others have done in my past. He does nothing of the sort, though. I appreciate it.
When I lead Wrath, I’ll be in charge of the military, but I won’t be expected to know the minutia of operations. That’s what the generals are for. Aziel handpicked them well before I was born, and he trusts them to defend Wrath.
I trust them, too, but it’s still good to get firsthand experience. It will only make me a better queen.
“Prince Nolic is close,” Androl says. “He’s traveling with a unit of only a hundred or so soldiers, but we have reports that a larger army is following closely behind.”
“How large?”
“We estimate about fifty thousand.”
Fifty thousand soldiers? Rexton believes Mammon grew an army of about one hundred thousand, and marching half of them through Greed is absurd. Wrath is placed in an advantageous geographic position. We border Lust and the lava fields, two locations we don’t have to worry about heavily guarding.
Greed doesn’t have the same advantage. They’re centrally located, surrounded by their enemies. Pulling an army of fifty thousand men is no small feat, and it’ll leave them open to attack. They don’t have the privilege of leaving their borders unguarded, even temporarily.
I shake my head. “There’s no way.”
Androl grunts. “It’s been confirmed by several scouts. We’ve seen the army ourselves. It’s large, and Prince Nolic is marching them directly to our border.”
The man beside Androl runs a hand through his hair. “We assume Prince Nolic is trying to intimidate us.”
It’s incredibly transparent. The prince is traveling with only one hundred soldiers, enough to put us on edge but not enough to start an outright war.
I’ll agree to meet Prince Nolic at the border because that’s the diplomatic thing to do, and he will openly accuse us of killing his mother. It’s a fair accusation, one I won’t deny. Murdering Mammon was an act of war, and Prince Nolic will lay out some bullshit terms for forgiveness.
