“Too much of his mother runs in him.” My throat tightened, my stomach souring at the reminder. “He won’t make this easy. There are Velli in Reem, and I haven’t the slightest clue how many, nor where they hide. And the heirs in the Golden Palace? Think of them—surely he plans to use them against us.”
“That’s what frightens me most,” she said. “The innocents. I’ve seen how Tallon wields people as weapons.”
Fyrn’sol.
Grief struck like an arrow to the chest. How had she slipped my thoughts? I’d been so consumed by that bastard prince that I hadn’t stopped to consider her, more so what her father, Clay, endured.
Was she kept as a toy? Or truly a victim? After Nienna was swept away, I never thought to seek her out. Chaos had swallowed everything. What role did Fyrn play now?
Claydon’sol and Gayle’sol were among the finest people I knew. Loyal. Honest. Tireless. They cherished their daughter. The Manor in the Mountains stifled her, yes, but that alone could not justify treachery.
Nienna kept her gaze forward, jaw set. Fyrn’s betrayal wounded her deeply. They’d been friends. I sent Fyrn to her, trusting her presence might soften Nienna’s view of Tallon. I never imagined the woman would instead draw close to him.
The prince had never shown much interest in women. Reports mentioned little more than fleeting kisses. Nothing that hinted at heirs. He guarded his affections.
If he possessed them at all.
“I have a plan.” The approach of another horse ended our candor. “Trust me, Nienna. I will do everything I can.”
Her expression eased into a restrained smile. “I know you will.”
Chapter Fifteen
Nienna
Reem wasn’t even in sight when we pulled to a halt. Thousands of troops barred our way, sharpened pikes angled toward us. Beyond them rose the city’s golden walls, Tallon having shifted his forces forward to form a living buffer before we could reach the outlying villages.
He met us on the plain. No trees, no ridges, nothing to break the land or soften what would become a brutal clash.
Ronan and Gyrak had spent the better part of the evening coaxing Tsunami from the sky, guiding her down into the wide, open fields. Kallias and I retreated behind our ranks, unwilling to risk Tallon taking a shot at us before preparations were complete.
Our tents mirrored the ones stretched across the flaxen sea ahead, but we had no intention of lingering. The moment camp took shape, Kallias sent a runner under a white flag of peace with a missive for the opposing army.
Now we huddled inside our command tent, bent over a detailed map of Reem.
“Sneak in from the north. The northern guard are always lax.” He tapped the parchment, and Claus nodded.
“How many of you are there?” Ronan asked, squinting up at the man.
The Thresher held his gaze a moment, then brushed him off. “Thirteen.”
“Thirteen? Against a palace?” My brother’s face scrunched. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re notthatgood.”
I kicked him under the table. “Are you volunteering to go with them?” I hissed in warning.
Claus flashed me a perplexed look, no doubt surprised by my defense. They were reserved men, all of them, but beneath the cold exterior, the Threshers were no different from any other man.
“We need him in the skies,” Kallias muttered, eyes never leaving the map, entrenched in his calculations. “Once you breach the wall, move through the courtyard to the queen’s gardens. They’re unstaffed, unless Tallon has claimed them for himself.”
“Then the garden door.” Claus traced the path with a finger, frowning. “Searching the palace will be the issue. How much time will we have, Your Majesty?”
“We’ll draw him out. When he’s exposed, he’s ours.” Kallias barely finished before a voice cut through the tent.
“News, Your Majesties!”
We turned as the runner ducked beneath the flap and passed a rolled paper to Kallias. No seal marked it, only twine. A scout’s report, not Tallon’s reply.
Kallias tossed the string onto the table. His expression darkened as he read the short, scrawled lines.
