"Fine," I say. "You'll command the defense of the Sessiz Ovalar. A calculated risk? Absolutely. But your knowledge ofLight Court tactics—their formations, their commanders, their weaknesses—is worth gambling on. Try not to die immediately. It would upset my wife, and she's already having a terrible month."
Emir clears his throat. "My lord, perhaps we should discuss this with the war council before?—"
"Excellent idea. Summon them. All seven faction lords."
"All seven? My lord, Lord Riza is questionable, and the northern lords?—"
"All. Seven." My shadows rise. "If Taren wants war, I'll remind every lord in this realm exactly who rules here. It'll be fun. Like a family reunion where everyone secretly wants to murder each other. Actually, it's exactly like a family reunion." And just like my last family reunion—the one that ended with my son's death and my wife's hatred.
Six hours later,after shadow-portals have deposited the faction lords from their scattered territories, the throne room seethes with seven lords who very much wish they were somewhere else.
I've arranged them in a semicircle before my throne—which I'm lounging in rather than sitting, because posture is a social construct and I'm a Shadow Lord. Lord Riza of Dogu Gölgeleri keeps his hand on his sword hilt. Lady Asena of Gece Daglari watches me like I'm prey that might fight back. Lord Kaya of Sessiz Ovalar looks ready to cry about his burning grain fields. Lady Almila of Alacakaranlik Kiyilari taps her daggers nervously. Lord Can of Rüzgar Vadileri leans on his staff, ancient but sharp-eyed. Lord Kemer of Kuzey Sinirlari stands at militaryattention, all scars and discipline. And Lord Aren, my own steward, looks like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.
Seven factions. Seven lords. Seven very nervous people.
Elçin stands off to the side, positioned where she can observe everyone without being immediately noticeable. Her hand rests casually on her sword hilt, but I notice the way her fingers tap a silent pattern—counting exits, cataloguing threats. She's done this before. Survived rooms full of dangerous people who all had their own agendas.
"Thank you all for coming," I begin pleasantly. "I know it's such an inconvenience, what with the invading armies and burning villages and general apocalyptic atmosphere. Really, I appreciate it." The words are light but my shadows coil tighter, responding to emotions I won't name.
"My Lord Kaan," Lord Riza starts, smooth as poison, "we've been requesting this council for weeks?—"
"Yes, yes, I've been busy. Grieving, mostly. Excellent hobby. Very time-consuming. But now I'm multitasking—grief and war planning. I'm very efficient." I wave a hand dismissively. "Lord Kaya, your grain fields. Terrible situation. My condolences. Lord Aren will compensate you from the capital stores."
"The capital stores won't last a winter if—" Aren begins.
"If the eastern provinces continue their little rebellion?" I turn to Lord Riza, my smile sharpening. "Tell me, Riza, when exactly did your spine turn to jelly? Was it a gradual process or more of a sudden structural failure?"
His jaw tightens. "My loyalty doesn't waver, my lord. But the eastern territories need strong leadership. With all respect, you've been... absent."
"Absent," I repeat thoughtfully. "What a tactful way to say 'too busy being emotionally devastated to attend grain yield meetings.' How kind." I stand, shadows coiling.
Lord Riza steps back. Smart man.
"And the Light Court invasion?" Lady Asena cuts in, all business. "What's your plan, my lord?"
Finally, a useful question.
"My brother-in-law will lead the defense." I gesture to Zoran, standing near the wall. "He'll command?—"
"A Light Court noble?" Lord Kemer's voice could strip paint. "You'd trust him to lead our soldiers?"
"Trust is a strong word. I'd say I'm 'strategically utilizing his intimate knowledge of enemy tactics' while keeping him close enough to kill if he betrays us. It's very practical."
"His father leads the invasion!" Lady Asena's hand goes to her sword. "You'd let him command against his own blood?"
"Oh, family drama is the best drama." I lean back against my throne. "Think of the emotional complexity. The interpersonal conflict. It's like a tragic play, except with more dismemberment."
"This is insane—" Lord Can begins.
"No, insane is three Light Court battalions burning my territories while my own lords question every decision. That's insane. This is merely unconventional."
"He knows Light Court tactics better than anyone in this room." Elçin's voice cuts through the rising protests, calm and authoritative. Every head turns toward her. She steps forward slightly, her posture military-perfect. "I've fought beside him. I've fought against him. He knows how Lord Taren thinks, how his commanders move, where their formations are weakest." She pauses, her storm-gray eyes sweeping the assembled lords. "You're all questioning the Shadow Lord's judgment while your territories burn. Perhaps you should be questioning your own priorities instead."
The silence that follows is thick with tension.
Lord Riza recovers first. "And who are you to lecture us about priorities?"
"Elçin Karadag of the Northern Reaches," she replies evenly. "Veteran of the Bone Wars. Survivor of three years' tactful negotiations in demon territories. And cousin to Lady Nesilhan, which means I have a vested interest in ensuring this kingdom doesn't fall apart while you all posture about loyalty." Her voice drops, gaining an edge. "I've seen kingdoms fall because lords spent more time protecting their pride than their people. Don't make me watch it happen again."
