“We sent scouts north, to see how far away the Kalovaxians are,” she says, wasting no time. “We heard back moments ago—they’ll be here before sundown.”
“They’ll be planning on spending the night,” I tell her. “We should draft a letter in Kalovaxian urging the Kaiserin to return to the palace, to convince her to leave as soon as possible. Tell her the nobles are planning a coup. She’ll believe it easily enough, and she’s already paranoid. She would ride day and night in order to get back there to stop it, and she wouldn’t give her men any choice but to accompany her.”
Maile nods. “Consider it done.”
A question lingers on my lips. It’s not something I want to ask Maile. I can imagine what she’ll say, and I doubt it will be what I want to hear. But that’s all the more reason why I need her answer.
“Will this work?”
Maile considers it for a moment that seems to last an eternity.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “But it’s the best plan we have.”
Hardly reassuring, but at least it’s honest. I’ll take that over blind optimism any day.
“It’s a rigid plan, though,” I say carefully. “There is no room for unpredictability.”
“No,” Maile says, brow furrowed as she tries to suss out my meaning.
I look between her and Heron, biting my lip. “Blaise has become an unpredictability,” I say.
Heron lets out a long exhale, though he doesn’t look surprised that I’m bringing it up. “What would you have us do?” he asks.
“When we evacuate those who are too weak to face a fight if it comes to it, he should go with them.”
“He won’t go easily,” Heron points out.
“I know. I trust that you will do what you have to do to keep him safe and out of the way.”
It isn’t a command, not exactly, but Heron gives one sharp nod.
* * *
—
On my way out of the office, I nearly run into Artemisia and Laius, standing in front of the door, ready to come in. Artemisia blinks at me for a second before lowering her arm.
“One more thing to discuss,” she says. “About Brigitta and Jian.”
I close the door and lead them down the walkway. “I don’t like turning her over, but we have to,” I say. “Of the two of them, he’s more valuable—we can’t let the Kalovaxians have access to a weapon like the velastra.”
“I’m not arguing that,” Artemisia says. “But the Kaiserin must know about the velastra. She wouldn’t have given up the Water Mine easily, and you said it yourself: the Sta’Criveran army isn’t—wasn’t—very strong. When we don’t have him, she’ll be angry. As unpredictable as she is, the whole plan could fall apart.”
“It’s a rigid plan,” I agree, the same thing I just told Maile and Heron. I shake my head. “But I would rather risk her fury now than put that weapon in her hands. The rebellion can rise again—you told me that once. But if the Kaiserin has the velastra, there will be no rebellion, not from anyone, ever again.”
Artemisia doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking at Laius, whose mouth is pressed into a thin line as he stares straight ahead with heavy brown eyes.
“But if there was a way to give the Kaiserin both Brigitta and Jian, while not giving her Jian at all? No risk of raising her suspicions or inciting her temper? A way to ensure that she and her troops are long gone before she realizes anything is amiss?” she asks. When she sees my confusion, she turns her gaze to Laius. “Go ahead. Tell her what you told me.”
Laius swallows. He looks so young—sixteen, maybe—but that’s only a year younger than I am. He’s the same age I was when I killed Ampelio, when Blaise came and offered me a chance to fight back. He has that look about him now, the look of someone ready for a fight. That is what scares me, even before he speaks.
“I’ve gotten good at disguising myself,” he says, his voice level. “I can hold an illusion on myself for long periods of time. It doesn’t drain me the way it does the others, and with Blaise’s training, it doesn’t make me lose control, either. It’s not big enough magic for that.”
I frown. “What exactly are you saying, Laius?” I ask him.
“The man, Jian, he has information the Kaiserin wants. Information we don’t want her to have,” he says. “So send me in his place. I don’t know anything.”
“No,” I say, almost before he’s finished talking. “Absolutely not.”
“I’m not a child, Your Majesty,” he says. “I’m not naive. I know what life has in store for me. I saw what happened…what happened to Blaise. That is my future. I know that I don’t get to see the end of this war. But if I can help in ending it, that will be enough.”
“We aren’t only talking about your death, Laius,” I say. “We are talking about torture first, about her trying to pry information from you however she can, until you wish for death.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, he looks at me, his eyes somber.
“Did you wish for death, Your Majesty?” he asks quietly.
“Pardon?”
“We’ve all heard the stories of the things you endured when you were held by the Kaiser, how he tried to get information from you that last night, how you were tortured both physically and mentally. How you persisted through it and that’s the only reason I was freed, the only reason we are here at all today.”
For a moment, I can’t speak. I remember standing in the throne room, watching as my own blood trickled to the tile below, knowing that death was inevitable but that I would do everything I could to protect the rebellion. I remember how Elpis made the same choice when she swallowed the last of the Encatrio and burned up from the inside before my eyes.
He’s too young, I think, but he’s not. He’s the same age I was. He’s older than she was.
I look at Artemisia and find my own thoughts mirrored on her face.
“Are you sure, Laius?” I ask him, my voice low. “You need to be sure.”
He considers it for only a second before nodding. “I’m sure,” he says. “For Astrea, I’m sure.”
IT IS A STRANGE THING, to wear Princess Amiza’s face. I barely remember what she looks like, only having met her briefly in Sta’Crivero, the night we first arrived. She didn’t speak much, except to ask about the punishments I’d suffered at the hands of the Kaiser. Artemisia must have gotten a good look at her at some point, though, because when she shows me my reflection in a small hand mirror, I recognize the Princess’s face at once.