She offers a small gesture with her hand. “Do not waste my time.”
Marin nods, clearing her throat. Then she recites the words she’s rehearsed over and over in her mind. “I believe the Lightborne is already in Virellin, and I believe the time to strike is now.”
Maireth’s face twists in disapproval. “Youbelieve?”
Fuck.
Marin stands taller. “Iknow.”
Maireth hums something indiscernible.
“Why is the time to strike now, Marin? And please, prove to be more useful than your brother,” Maireth complains, bored.
Her brother. Vaelor. She may have hated the bastard for his sickening obsession with approval but he didn’t deserve to be sent to his death. But that’s Maireth—if it bothers her, she kills it.
So Marin does the only thing she can: she exposes the factions against the north, and hopes to the fucking Stars that it doesn’t work against them.
“They have been unsuccessful in their attempts to ally with the witches. The Melders remain in mortal skin. Andthe Lightborne is a woman of justice as we saw here. She will not want us moving on Virellin. So she will be planning to bring the war here. We should strike before she rallies loyalty and obedience from the Starborn army,” Marin says, forcing certainty into her voice, and hoping to the gods that she hasn’t just doomed the uprising before it even begins. Because if this fails, she will have delivered the uprising to her mother with her own hands.
Maireth does not move. Her face remains an unreadable expression. She lifts her gaze, settling her hazelnut stare on Marin, urging her to look away. But Marin holds. She will not flinch. Cannot.Lives depend on it.
“How do you know this, Marin?” Maireth finally asks.
Fuck.
Marin swallows thickly.
“You told me to become invaluable to the empire, mother. I am simply doing as you wish,” she bluffs, training her voice into neutrality.
Maireth does not look impressed. Doesn’t look anything at all. Just sits there with the same bored expression of poised neutrality as she always does.
Marin forces steel into her voice, swallowing down every instinct to keep her godsdamned mouth shut. “And I assumed you would like intelligence that allows you to step out from behind Ilyra’s shadow.”
The words land, blunt and undeniable. Maireth’s eyes widen slightly in response. A rare slip. But enough to notice.
And neither of them miss the insult.
Like a blade threaded through ribs, Marin’s words find their mark.
“I’m in her shadow, am I?” Maireth hisses.
So Marin plays a dangerous game—she stokes the fire of her mother’s rage. Her mother’s inability to be second.
“That is what the Lightborne believes, yes. She treats Caeloria like little more than a nuisance. A puppet dangling from Ilyra’s strings. Certainly not a threat.”
Her mother purses her lips. Clasps her hands a little tighter in her lap. The servants hold their breaths. They know a challenge when they see one. Because to her mother, there is only one thing worse than being second: not being feared.
And she’s depending on it.
Marin forces her muscles to relax, though they fight to grip around her bones.
“Puppets,” she hisses to no one in particular. Then her eyes snap up, boring into Marin with the promise of violence. “Prepare the ships to sail on tides of Aether, and shut down all testing grounds. We are beyond testing now—we must put them into practice.” Maireth stands from her throne, her slender eyes narrowing further. “Get her precious Starbound and ensure he is broken enough to kill on demand. We will not wait for Ilyra. Caeloria waits for no one.Answersto no one.”
Marin drops into a curtsy again, low and humble.
“Yes, mother,” she defers, like she didn’t orchestrate the entire thing. Maireth brushes past like a woman who will not be tested. Like a woman certain the outcome is already hers.
A small smirk lifts Marin’s mouth. Because right now, her mother is not in control and she doesn’t even know it.
