Lara descends the castle steps beneath a darkening sky, the night breeze lifting the braids from her shoulders. Somewhere far beyond Nymeris, armies are moving. Kings are making peace with death. Girls are stepping into war with more courage than this world deserves.
Lara of the Evening Star has never believed in sides.
But for the first time in a very long while, neutrality feels suspiciously close to cowardice.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
The greatest wars are rarely won
By those who fear what must be done
Elyssara does not takethe seat at the head of the table in Virellin Castle’s war chamber.
She stands instead, hands braced against the worn timber, the map of Dravara spread beneath her palms, every line and mark already committed to memory. The room hums with restrained energy, voices low, tension coiled tight between bodies that have learned the cost of what comes next.
This is not The Perils. There is no laughter here. No brask. No illusion of friendship. Only the final moments before the world bends or breaks.
“They’ll come from the shore,” Ronyn says, nodding toward the coastline etched into the map. “Fastest access. Cleanest strike.”
Teddy doesn’t look up.
“No,” he says calmly. “They won’t.”
His confidence is clear, indisputable. That stills the room more effectively than any raised voice could.
Elyssara lifts her gaze to him. “Why?”
“Because it’s obvious,” Teddy replies, straightening. “They wouldn’t risk a naval attack with the possibility of being stuck on the water. They wouldn’t risk it if there’s any chance we free the Melders.” His finger drags across the map, bypassing the coast entirely, his mind working cleanly, efficiently. Like the General of War. “And because they know we know it.”
He taps the Frael Forest—the place where this all began.
“Caeloria didn’t build an empire by being predictable. They’ll avoid Tarrakai—they know we have him. Avoid open ground. Avoid a possible air strike with all of them concentrated in a single area. They’ll come through here—dense cover, multiple entry points, close enough to the slums that by the time we realize what they’re doing, they’re already inside the city.”
A quiet settles over the table.
“It’s what I would do,” Teddy murmurs.
“Fuck. That puts them right inside the heart of Virellin,” Jax mutters. “No room for error.”
“Exactly,” Teddy agrees. “Which is precisely why they’ll do it.”
Elyssara nods once.
Seren leans in. “So we leave the coast unprotected and the castle completely exposed? The risk is enormous.”
She’s not wrong.
Elyssara’s stomach tightens.
But Teddy shakes his head definitively. “Warisrisk. The real risk is in dividing our already-outnumbered force and splitting our focus. They’ll cut through us in a heartbeat.”
Thalmyr steps forward for the first time, his expression stricken with grief and solemnity and defeat. A muscle in his jaw feathers, his tension palpable. “Maireth will not settle forconquest of the castle. She’ll want every Starborn soldier in a grave before dawn breaks, every Earthbound bending a knee to her reign. No chance of an uprising. No threat left unchecked.”
No threat left unchecked.
Elyssara’s mind whirls, running through every possible outcome—all of which lead to the same devastating end: defeat.
She shakes her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts from her mind.
