Page 196 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Five days.” I felt the blood drain from my face. “The ritual the Alchemist described—”

“Will be worthless if Auremar completes his first.” Kazimir’s voice had gone deadly quiet, which was always more terrifying than when he shouted. “How many families does that give him?”

Sebastian swallowed again. “Combined with the ones we couldn’t reach in time? Between seventy and one hundred individuals with heroic blood. Maybe more.”

“War room, twenty minutes,” Kazimir ordered Sebastian. “Bring Vex, Griffin, and Thorne.”

Sebastian fled, leaving a trail of dead petals in his wake.

I turned to find Kazimir already grabbing clothes with sharp, economical movements. The playful husband from moments ago had been replaced by the Dark Lord, all business and barely contained violence.

“We can’t let him complete that ritual,” I said.

“We won’t.” He yanked on a shirt, then paused to cup my face in his hands. “But this changes our timeline. We need those bloodlines to agree to help us now, not after lengthy negotiations.”

“They’re terrified nobility who think we kidnapped them.” Which, to be fair, we had. “How exactly do we convince them to willingly bleed for us in the next few hours?”

“That’s your department.” He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “I’ll handle the military logistics. You handle the people things.”

“And what are those?”

“You know.” He waved a hand vaguely. “Emotions. Empathy. Not threatening to eviscerate them if they don’t comply.”

Twenty minutes later, we assembled in the war room. The massive table was already covered in maps, troop deployments, and what looked like Griffin’s calculations for portal stability. Kazimir stood at the head.

“Report,” he commanded as Sebastian entered, still trailing dead flowers.

Sebastian pointed to Sunspire on the map. “The prisoners are being held in the old wine cellars—stone walls, limited access points, and heavy magical wards. The kind that prevent portals.”

Kazimir’s fingers drummed against the table.

“Can we break the wards?” I asked, thinking of the Heirloom’s power thrumming beneath my skin.

“Not without alerting every mage in the palace,” Griffin said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Wards that strong are tied to alarm systems.”

Vex leaned forward, her newly black hair catching the light. “So we need a distraction. Something big enough to pull the guards away from the palace.”

Kazimir nodded toward the map. “I’ll take our main force and hit their eastern garrisons.”

I frowned. “But our army is at the northern outpost. It would take days to march them into position.”

Thorne scratched the side of his scarred face. “And their forces are between us and the capital. Already marching to meet us.”

A dangerous smile curved Kazimir’s lips. “We’re going to save them the trip. We portal our forces inside their defensive line—just outside Sunspire itself. Let them scramble to defend their own capital while their army is marching in the wrong direction.”

“Why not just move Skyspire itself?” I asked. “Position the entire citadel over Sunspire.”

“Takes too long.” Kazimir’s response was immediate. “The citadel’s movement enchantments require days of preparation for a journey that distance. We don’t have days.”

It made sense tactically, but something in his tone felt off. “Besides,” he added, “I don’t want Skyspire anywhere near the Shadow King’s prison. Not until we understand the full extent of the corruption.”

I wondered why, but he changed the subject.

His shadows spread across the map, marking positions. “Griffin, can you create a stable portal large enough for five thousand troops?”

Griffin’s eyes went wide. “That’s… theoretically possible. But the power requirements—”

“I’ll handle the power.” Kazimir’s voice brooked no argument. “You handle the calculations.”