His chin jerked, a sign that he could do this for me. “Aye, Your Highness.”
I weighed the silence around his words but could not hold back my curiosity. “I need it to be immediate. Are you capable of this?”
His chin jerked again. “Aye.”
“Do you mind telling me how? Shapeshifting? Are you also a bird?”
His lips tilted in a half smile. “I’m Cavolia,” he said by way of explanation.
“Not a bird then.”
“The spirit of a stallion, milady.”
The spirit of a stallion. What did that mean? A memory played through my head of Taelon telling me that the Cavolia allowed horses to sleep in their beds. Maybe it wasn’t horses sleeping in their masters’ beds. But horses sleeping in their own beds.
“Oh,” I managed to say.
“But I will use the Cavolia way today. It would take me days to find him otherwise.”
“So it can be immediate?”
“As long as he is still with Gunter, aye.”
“Good. Then tell him to go straight to Soravale. Tell him Blackthorne is marching on his kingdom even now. Ravanna Pressydia has the Crown and Kasha and Aramore. They will not stop until the realm is theirs. His people will need him to lead. I will send him another message as soon as I’m able. And tell him...”I love him. I miss him. I need him. I’m... I’m sorry.“Tell him I’m okay. That I am unharmed.”
Soravale would need their Crown Prince to put up a strong fight. Of course, Hugo was still their king. But Taelon was their future and leader of the army. Besides, his family would need his quiet courage and indomitable strength to see them through this dark time. I would support them in any way I could. But for now, I could at least give them their son.
Finch nodded and left the room. In his place, ten advisors, generals, and politicians filled the space, shouting their orders and strategies at me. I looked around my uncle’s room and wished he was here. Which surprised me. Even more, I wished my father was here.
Ignoring the voices of old men screaming at me, I walked over to the textured map of the realm in the center of the room. It was a lot like the one Taelon’s father, Hugo, kept in his own war room. Detailed images of the kingdoms were all laid out in a smaller version of reality. Elysia with her Diamond Mountains glittering between the glossy boundaries of the Marble Wall. Barstus with her rolling moors and jagged Ice Mountains. Vorestra with her golden dunes and lush oasis gardens. And Soravale with her back to the Crystal Sea and her cliffs deep with sleeping dragons.
Could Ravanna really take Soravale? Could she conquer the capital, Desmondin? Could she occupy the country and make it her own?
My eyes flicked to Heprin. It was a small kingdom comparatively. Three of its sides bordered the sea. It had been so peaceful. So... free of struggle.
What did it look like now? Did the sum of it burn? Had it been razed? What happened to the royal family?
What would happen if I did not squash this rebellious sickness and take back the Crown that belonged to me?
Something hot and harsh swept through me, setting my blood on fire with purpose. This was more than a war of men and weapons and advancement. This was a war of magic and history and two queens who would decide the realm's fate.
“Enough!” I shouted at the men, who were all trying to talk over each other. “I cannot understand you when you’re all yelling at the same time!”
One exceptionally pompous middle-aged man pushed to the front. “Your Highness, I am General Leffenmore. You may remember me. I am the general of the Royal Army.”
“I remember you,” I told him coolly. He’d been at the first supper Tyrn had invited me to. I had yet to face Conandra then. The meal had been meant to humiliate and belittle me. Leffenmore had been happy to do his part.
To his credit, he didn’t flinch at the mention of that night. “We must pull our men away from the Wall and bring them back to Extensia. The marble will hold. Our defenses must be used to protect the castle.”
I held his gaze, wondering how someone who was not yet eighteen could possibly win a war. Worse, how anyone could win a war with that kind of foolish advice. “If the walls will hold, why do we need to use all our resources to defend the castle?”
He opened his mouth, shut it quickly, then opened it once more.
“What’s more, General, what good are walls when our enemies can simply fly over them?”
At this, his face turned a sickly yellow, and I thought he might have stopped breathing. With great effort, he seemed to compose himself barely, but before he could explain his reasoning or suggest something different, there was a commotion at the door.
I could hear Curtis arguing with someone. Stepping to the side of the group of men who looked like a gaggle of geese bobbing their heads around, I moved to see what was going on.
