I exchanged a glance with the Engrossian heir and shook my head. We couldn’t explain that his mother was after me without me explaining my Angelblood theory, and that would lead to Damien’s prophecy and the Angelcurse—and…only I could know.
“What is she after?” Tol mused. “Why ignite a war again?”
The words clawed their way up my throat, nearly bursting from my lips. Spirits, I was close to my breaking point beneath these secrets.Me.She’s after me.
“Allies,” I blurted instead. “It doesn’t matterwhereshe is. We’ll need allies if she cuts off our troops.” Shame squirmed within me, but I avoided Barrett’s questioning eyes. “The chancellors have yet to respond to my letters.”
“It’s been over a week since you wrote,” Jezebel interjected, lips curling in a threat to storm the territories herself and demand answers.
“I know, but it’s a delicate decision, declaring war or not.” Perhaps I should have visited each clan rather than written to them. But that would have taken weeks—months, probably, consideringhow many territories I would have to travel to. That was time we didn’t have.
Absently, I ran my fingers over the pin at my chest. The one my grandmother had given me for my twentieth birthday. To guide me, she had said. I had taken to wearing it daily, resting on that reassurance.
“Can the delegates tell us anything?” Vale, Erista, and Esmond sat at one end of the table. “Do you have any idea what your chancellors may be thinking?”
“I haven’t spoken to Titus,” Vale offered of the Starsearcher chancellor. “But I’ll write to him today.”
“Thank you.” I nodded. “And may I ask how your own readings are?”
Vale straightened, her expression giving nothing away. “They’re decent. Titus had the best tutors in our clan on staff.”
“Would you be open to conducting one around the coming war? Perhaps seeking Kakias’s next steps from the stars?” I’d been mulling over the idea for some time. Vale hid secrets—they were clear in her eyes, riddled by the past. Her connection to the celestial movements was a tool we needed.
“That could be incredibly helpful in knowing where to station our forces,” Danya interjected.
“And general strategy overall.” Cypherion’s mind ticked down his list of preparations.
“Particularly with allies.” Jezebel and Erista exchanged a glance.
Barrett toyed with his sigil ring. “If anyone can understand my mother, it will be the stars.”
Vale looked from one to the next, imposition clear on her face. “I can try. I can’t promise results.”
“Thank you.” The satisfied snapping of a trap sounded in my head.
“The Apex Moon has passed. I expect you’ll hear from Meridat soon.” Erista’s confidence was reassuring. A bit of the tension in my chest eased.
“And Brigiet?” I faced the Bodymelder apprentice.
Esmond ran a hand over his hair. “To tell you the truth, Ophelia.” He paused. “I don’t know what to expect from her. Brigiet is a very…private person.”
An understatement.
“Please write to her, as well, and see if there is any movement on her decision.”
“Of course,” he promised. I didn’t know what way Esmond would sway the Bodymelder chancellor. Though he appeared to trust us, we couldn’t be sure how deep that loyalty ran.
“If we might be moving without the minor clans”—Danya shifted their symbols off the map—“we’ll need to fight smart. Brute force and size will go to Kakias.”
“We aren’t sure what her plans are, though,” I added.
“We can assume she’ll attack Damenal.” The Master of Weapons spoke with years of experience.
But I looked to the Engrossian heir. “Can we?”
Barrett leaned forward, twirling one of his black curls around a finger and studying the map of Gallantia spread over the table. “No.” He straightened. “Never assume my mother will do what is obvious.”
“In the last war?—”
