Chapter Twenty-One
Lord Cornelius de la Sang stood before the tactical display in his war chamber, brass components clicking with barely restrained irritation as allied house representatives filed out. Three hours of negotiations. Three hours of their preening and posturing, and he'd secured exactly half the forces he required.
"They're cowards," he said, not turning as Elisandra entered through the private entrance. Her footsteps were deliberately audible; she knew better than to surprise him in this mood.
"They're cautious," she corrected, moving to stand beside him at the display. "House Ferreous lost thirty warriors to the desert clans last season. House Crystalline still rebuilds from their failed northern expansion."
"Excuses." His fingers traced attack vectors on the display, each movement precise despite his agitation. "When my father summoned allies, houses competed for the honor of serving."
"Your father never had a son turn traitor." Elisandra's voice carried calculated risk, enough truth to be valuable, not enough to trigger his rage. "They wonder if Sebastian's defection signals weakness in your line's improvements."
The temperature dropped noticeably. Cornelius's hand stilled on the display. "My improvements are flawless."
"I agree." She walked past him, studying the map with clinical detachment. "But they don't know that yet. They see two dead sons and one who chose primitives over perfection. They'reasking themselves if your house's modifications are as superior as claimed."
"Pretty words to dress up cowardice."
"Cowardice and pragmatism look identical from outside." Elisandra turned back to face him. "Lord Ashborne won't commit forces because he's calculating how to absorb your territories if you fail. Lady Silvervessel questions whether an alliance with you strengthens or weakens her position. They're all waiting to see if you're strong enough to make this campaign successful."
Cornelius studied her, processors working through implications. "And you? Are you waiting to see if I fail?"
"I'm ensuring you don't." Her voice carried an edge that matched his own. "House Sanguinaire has the numbers we need, three hundred warriors, fully enhanced, with siege equipment designed specifically for primitive fortifications. But Lord Marcus wants assurance this isn't a desperate venture."
"What kind of assurance?"
"The kind that comes from seeing us united at the wedding ceremony. The kind that shows we planned this alliance, that Sebastian's betrayal changed nothing except our timeline." She paused. "He needs to see that the other houses fear us, not pity us."
Cornelius moved back to the display, bringing up reports from his scouts. Blurred images of the settlement's expanded defenses. Crude but effective fortifications. "How long?"
"Three days until the ceremony. Then Marcus commits his forces." Elisandra joined him at the display. "The others will follow when they see Sanguinaire's support. But those three days are critical, no more dead sons, no more public failures. We need to project absolute control."
"Three more days of Sebastian existing beyond my reach." Cornelius's components clicked faster, barely controlled furymaking his frame vibrate. "Three more days of him spreading corruption among the primitives."
"Three days to gather the force that will crush him completely." Elisandra's brass-tipped fingers moved across the display, highlighting positions. "Marcus brings not just warriors but siege equipment. With those forces, we don't just attack, we annihilate. We make an example that every house will remember."
A new alert flashed on the display. House Nocturne declining forces, citing "internal restructuring." Another excuse. Another house questioning his strength.
His fist connected with the display, shattering one corner. The broken screen continued projecting, fractured images of the settlement multiplying across the damaged surface.
***
The door opened without announcement, Elisandra's privilege as his betrothed, though the presumption still grated. She entered with her characteristic sharp efficiency, violet eyes scanning the broken display before settling on him.
"Lord Marcus has arrived," she said. "I've assured him our alliance proceeds as planned, but he wants confirmation from you personally."
"Then provide it yourself. That's what you negotiated for, control of the political theater." Cornelius didn't turn from the fractured screen.
"Political theater requires both actors." Elisandra moved closer, studying the reconnaissance images. "He needs to see you composed, decisive. Not..." she gestured at the shattered display, "...this."
"Careful."
"Someone needs to be." She leaned against the edge of the display, deliberately positioning herself in his line of sight. "Wecan't afford for Marcus to doubt this alliance. Not when we need his forces."
Cornelius finally turned to face her fully. "I'm aware of what we need."
"Then let me send an advance party." Elisandra's tone shifted, becoming more businesslike. "Twenty of my best warriors. They can reach the settlement within two days, assess their defenses, perhaps even capture Sebastian before the main assault."
"No."
