He doesn't answer.
Caius's jaw tightens. "Discord. We need a commitment. Are you in, or are you going to keep playing both sides until there's nothing left to play?"
The quiet stretches.
And then my mouth opens.
"You're asking the wrong question."
What the fuck am I doing.
Every head in the room swings toward me. Gods and half-gods and soldiers all pivoting at once, all finding the mortal woman who should not be speaking.
I keep going. Because apparently I've lost my mind.
"Coin doesn't care about the northern corridor. They care about making you care about it." The words come out steady. Clear. I don't know where they're coming from. "They're pulling your attention north so you don't notice what they're doing in the east. The shipping routes are a distraction. They want you to overcommit there so they can—"
I stop.
The room has gone dead quiet.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh—
"Continue."
His voice. Low. Steady. He's looking at me now, really looking.
I swallow. "The east. The trade guilds in the Sharn Coast. Coin's been buying loyalty there for months—your people have the reports. If War moves forces north, Coin takes the coast without a fight. They don't want to win the northern corridor. They want you to try to take it."
No one speaks.
My heartbeat thuds in my throat. My hands are cold. I just told a room full of gods and killers how to run their war, how to run their criminal empires.
Caius is staring at me. His expression is unreadable.
"And your recommendation?" His voice is careful. Testing.
Don't answer. Don't—
"Ignore the north. Let them think you've taken the bait. Move your forces east under cover of the distraction. Hit the coast before Coin finishes buying it."
Then he looks at Caius.
"You heard her."
Three words. Flat. Final.
"Discord—"
"That's the decision." Koshin's voice doesn't change. "War moves east. Discord provides cover intelligence to support the misdirection. The northern corridor stays empty."
Caius's mouth opens. Closes.
Around the room, Discord's elite exchange glances. War's people shift in their seats. Someone mutters something I can't hear.
"Meeting's over."
Koshin wraps his hand around my wrist, pulling me up.
