Before I meet with the war council, I stop in to check on Quinn and give her the news about Taran. She’s managed to leave the bed, but she’s in a wheelchair made from wicker.
“Any progress?” I ask her, gesturing to her legs.
“Not a fucking bit. But I couldn’t take being in that bed for another second. Where’s Tare?”
I explain to her what happened, waiting for her reprimand, but it doesn’t come.
“So what are you going to do?” she asks. As mad as she is about Sylvie, at least she still has faith in me.
“Whatever it takes.”
“About damn time.”
I move to take the handles of her chair, but she stops me.
“Don’teven think about it. I swear if one more person tries to fucking baby me—”
“You’re injured. No one thinks you’re incapable. They’re just trying to help.”
Flame flickers in her palm involuntarily. She looks down in surprise and then snuffs it quickly before the chair ignites. “I didn’t ask for help.”
I don’t argue with her. Honestly, there’s a part of me that takes comfort in her anger. It makes me feel less alone with my own rage.
The war council is waiting for us by the time we arrive at the library. Lord Cyrus and Typhon; my grandmother and head of House Juni, Queen Claudia; Admiral Darius of House Nauta; my aunt General Nona of House Alta; and Commander Elia of House Grana, the second in command under Taran, taking his place.
“Where is Larus Adama?” I ask.
“In his chambers, under guard,” says Cyrus. “Should I summon him?”
“Please do.” His knowledge of Nithyrian strategy could be critical to our success.
I take my place at the head of the table, feeling as unworthy of it as I ever have. But there’s no time now for self-pity. “The war has just begun, but we’ve already reached a turning point. Due to my own poor decision-making, the enemy has two high-value prisoners.”
This information isn’t news to the council, who would have already heard the same from Cyrus, but I feel for their reactionsanyway. It’s as I suspected: disbelief, sympathy, and more than a small amount of disdain from everyone except Typhon and my grandmother.
“I want to hear all options to ensure their safe return. Nithyria is aware of their value to me, so I’m certain getting them back won’t be easy. We are going to consider every possibility, no matter how drastic.”
“I don’t believe there are any viable naval options, your majesty,” says Admiral Darius. He’s a lean man of Enezian heritage who inherited only their looks and none of the flamboyance of their culture. He can be a difficult man to read, even for me, but he’s an excellent strategist. “A small boat moving in stealth may be able to traverse the Mara as Guardian Adama demonstrated, but it’s not without risk. And I can’t spare the ships in the harbor to take the river back.”
“What about flying a false flag?” asks Queen Claudia. “How many of their vessels have we captured?”
“Six, though only one of those could make it over the boom and up the river.”
Darius’s navy is doing better than I expected. Perhaps Larus’s interference has given us an advantage after all. “When you return to the fleet today, send it to the palace in case we have use for it.”
“Aye, sir.”
Commander Elia of House Grana has few options for us either. The weakest points of the siege force lie to the north and south of Faros, with most of their forces concentrated to the west along the Mara, but that’s because those lands are inhospitable. It wouldn’t be impossible for a small group to go around their camp and to break into it from behind, but there’s no guarantee that they’ll keep Sylvie and Taran at the back of their army. And the latest scouts’ report confirms that they’re moving towards Faros anyway.
“I know I’m stating the obvious here and that it’s unlikely that they’ll offer favorable terms, but if we’re considering all options, we do have to consider negotiating,” says Typhon during a disturbing lull in conversation.
Cyrus gives his son a deadly look that starts Typhon in his nervous habit of rubbing his bald head. “Sir, I do not believe they will negotiate. Our understanding is they aren’t fighting for independence. There’s nothing we can offer them other than unconditional surrender.”
And my head.He doesn’t say it, but we all know that there’s no version of this where they let me walk away for the sake of my city. There will be no exile for me. If we lose or surrender, I’m dead.
And even in my darkest thoughts, I’m not willing to consider it. I will fight to the death for my people, but I will not lie down and die for them, not unless there’s no other option.
“What about theotheroptions?” I look at Cyrus as I say it.
