“Bring out Lord Dodd,” Azriel instructed the Rusan nearest him, whose face turned ashen at the sight of him. Yes, they still had a long way to go before either side would be comfortable.
Nonetheless, the Rusan nodded and disappeared into the tent before reemerging with the tall blond Caersan man, his russet eyes the template from which Camilla was made. Felix Dodd.Once a Lower Councilman for Central Province before taking up the mantle once held by Caldwells alone.
Ariadne stumbled through a half-curtsy before remembering that it wassheto whom the man before them should bow. Her cheeks flushed in the moonlight as she tilted her chin to look down her nose at the Caersan before her. “Lord Dodd.”
Felix Dodd did not miss a beat as he bowed low to them both. “I am humbled to be in the presence of the King and Queen.”
“A Lord Governor,” Azriel said, motioning for him to straighten and face them. “I would have expected the Central Province, not Eastwood.”
“Walk with us,” Ariadne suggested and gestured for them to move away from the tent. One of the many things she knew better than him was sharpness of Caersan ears and their fondness for gathering any form of intel. Only once they had moved a sufficient distance away did Ariadne ask, “Why did you go there?”
“I asked for Central,” Dodd admitted, smoothing back his disheveled golden hair. “But when a militant king orders you to take a position that was meant to keep your family safe…you do it.”
Ariadne shook her head. “But Camilla.”
Steps faltering, Felix swung wide eyes down to her. “When I heard of your…abduction—”
“Isthatwhat he’s calling it?” Azriel snarled. If there was ever a time for her disappearance from Laeton to be called anything of the sort, it most certainly wasnotthen. A year ago? Certainly. But not now.
Before Felix could reply, Ariadne cast him a woeful look to silence him and said, “The man who was rescuing Camilla was killed, and she was taken back. Revelie and I hardly escaped.”
True fear shone in Lord Dodd’s gaze at that. He gaped at her for a long moment before swallowing hard and saying, “I didnot want to leave her but I feared retaliation upon her would be severe if I did not acquiesce. My plan was to return for her as soon as I was able.”
“I fear Camilla is in more danger now than ever before,” Ariadne admitted, peeling her arm from Azriel’s and taking the Lord’s hand in hers. “You have a gift, Lord Dodd, and we need it now to keep her safe.”
At first, he shook his head, eyes welling with tears. “I have no power here.”
“But you do,” Azriel interjected, drawing both their attention. He had a feeling he knew where this was headed: send Lord Dodd as a messenger to Loren and gain inside knowledge not unlike the intelligence gathering Oren Theobald had been conducting in Eastwood. “You have a silver tongue like none I have ever heard before and your ability to sway others is unmatched—not through brute force, but through the heart.”
Nodding in agreement, Ariadne added, “You have loved and protected Camilla through all her stages of life. She needs you.”
“But what can I possibly do?” Dodd looked between them, clearly at a loss.
“There are dozens of Caersan soldiers in those tents.” Ariadne looked back the way they came before refocusing on the man in front of her. “We need their numbers, their strength, and their knowledge of what is to come.”
Understanding dawned on Azriel. She did not wish to use him to go straight to Loren. He would gain them more allies. More fighters. More men willing to put their lives on the line for something greater than tyranny.
“What?” Again Felix gaped at her. “But what about Camilla?”
Obviously, the Lord had had the same line of thinking as Azriel, but this plan of action would take far less time than attempting to uncover Loren’s plots. Ariadne thought in the here and now, not the long game.
“Loren will not kill her outright,” Ariadne assured him. “He will use her to draw me to him and it will work.”
Azriel’s heart stuttered. “Wait—”
Ignoring him, Ariadne continued, “I want you to convince those men that they will have peace once this is finished…and that the one who tallies the most kills will marry Camilla.”
“You…you want me to sell my daughter’s hand to a soldier?” Lord Dodd stammered.
Ariadne sucked in a deep breath even as Azriel’s mind still reeled with what was happening. He had never seen her act like this. The confidence she wore and her own vicious use of the Society’s standards to garner a victory was startling. Her eyes blazed like an ocean set aflame, for she knew she was winning this argument.
“Absolutely not.” Ariadne gave the Lord’s hand a squeeze. “I want you to sell your daughter’s hand for an army.”
Chapter 32
The trek to Phulan’s medic tent at the edge of the upcoming battlefield was more solemn than Emillie remembered it being in Monsumbra. In Eastwood, their camp bordered on the vampire city, and no move was necessary to ensure they were close enough to the fight to care for injured soldiers. Now in Central Province, their main camp lay leagues behind her.
The march from the southern reaches of the Keonis Valley had been slow and quiet. Tense. Most soldiers who walked alongside her horse laden with medical supplies had made it through Monsumbra, but not without bringing a certain level of trauma with them. It did not matter how often or hard any soldier trained; they could not escape the inevitable pain of loss or the guilt that would haunt them.
