“If the prince survived, they did what they needed to do.”
Ula opened her mouth and closed it, while Urtzi’s face clouded. The question itched at Amarande: HowdidFerdinand survive? But the answer was as simple as the fact that Geneva had.
They were valuable.
“We need to go get him. We cannot let Renard claim some war crime that Ferdinanddid notcommit just to keep him on a technicality.” Amarande looked to Luca. “And we cannot let him hold Geneva. As long as she is anywhere but in the custody of Torrence, she is a danger to Luca’s kingdom and his life.”
Joseba set Renard’s parchment carefully before him, as if it were actually worth something. “Surely we can take up this issue at the conclave—”
“No.”
Luca wasn’t one to cut someone off—that was typically Amarande’s area of expertise—but here he did so definitively and decisively, though more kindly than the queen ever would.
“That will just give him the time and leverage to further twist the knife.” Luca drew in a deep breath. “Renard is quite aware that he holds the keys to both our kingdoms in his dungeons. Ferdinand is the rest of the Sand and Sky’s answer to the issue of Ardenia’s succession. Geneva is key to a safe and sovereign rebuilding of Torrence. If he has control of them, he has control over us.”
“Exactly,”Amarande agreed. “Which is why we must go in, take them for ourselves, and then sell our point of view to the remainder of the Sand and Sky, should they believe Renard’stale.”
Everyone around the great oval table nodded save for Joseba. He was taking his role as the lone remaining councilor seriously, round cheeks pinking and waddle wobbling under his young brown eyes. He wasn’t Satordi, but his brush with death had made him question anything and everything much more vociferously.
“How do we get in, Your Highnesses?” He gestured to the map. “Renard will have his soldiers in the mountains because hewantsa fight. He’ll get one far away from Ferdinand and Geneva if we prance across the mountain border with our military. And don’t think about shipping the army to the Port of Pyrenee—they will see that as an immediate affront and the mirror image of Inés’s invasion of our harbor.”
All eyes fell to General Xixi, who agreed stoically. “This is true, and they will be justified.”
“I am no military tactician, just a girl with a sword,” Ula interjected, brows furrowing together, “but may I ask—what is the point of the greatest army in the world if we cannot use it?”
Amarande was sure that once she’d wondered the same thing. Now she knew better. “Its reputation fights battles for us so that they never happen in the first place.”
A silence fell over the room, stillness, too, as they all became lost in thought, strategies playing out over the tapestries on the walls, out the window, on the bare table, and the maps and crumpled threat from Renard.
After a long moment, Amarande caught Luca’s forearm.
The movement was so sudden, it had the effect of a cannon blast, everyone around the table reacting in their own way—flinching, blinking, leaning back or forward—all eyes on the queen.
“We go in the way we left after the wedding.”
Luca tensed under her palm, recognition immediate as he straightened, golden eyes brilliant. “Exactly as we left, but in reverse.”
“Yes.”
“It’ll work. It’ll definitely work.”
The pair of them sought out the others who’d been there that night, but Ula and Urtzi both held their arms crossed over their chests, suspicious. Or, perhaps, confused—which Joseba and Xixi certainly were.
“But weleftby ship and the general just said no ships?” Urtzi muddled through. “Besides, theGatzalis… where did Ferdinand go first?”
“Basilica.”
“It’s in Basilica.”
Amarande clapped her hands. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, we don’t need an army—at least not right away—we need a ship, horses, and the cover of darkness.”
Luca’s grin was huge. He tagged Ula on the shoulder, using the entire length of his armspan just to achieve it. “We’re finally storming a castle.”
“Without an army,” she deadpanned.
“We don’t need one,” Luca said. “We have you. And Urtzi. And Amarande and myself. Lean and mean.”
“I do not like this.” The councilor fidgeted with discomfort. “We should go and have a formal, diplomatic discussion with Renard ahead of the conclave, notsneak inand steal back what he stole from us.”
