The soft squeak of the hinges on her bedroom door had Eimarille glancing over her shoulder at the woman who entered. Terilyn curtsied deeply to Innes, head bowed, gown fluttering around her. Eimarille easily picked out the weapons Terilyn carried, the Blade having spent the majority of her life protecting the woman who owned her heart.
Eimarille loved Terilyn in all the ways that mattered, the two having grown up together amidst the politics that gave the Daijal court life. They’d stood together and schemed together, all the while finding a way to this moment with as little bloodshed as possible.
Unlike Bernard, Eimarille hadn’t targeted the noble families who carried ties to the Iverson bloodline. She hadn’t eradicated generations of people simply for the sake of power. She’d only killed Bernard—lit him on fire and pitched him out a window—and held no guilt for her actions, having already sent his wife to dance amongst the stars years ago via poison disguised as an illness. Bernard had brought his downfall to live in his court, expecting Eimarille to abide by his will and marry his son, to provide an heir more easily controlled.
High General Kote Akina had executed Eimarille’s husband out of loyalty to her and her alone. She had married Wesley not out of love but out of need to survive. She’d given birth to Lisandro and chose to love him fiercely, as any mother would, because he was her son, and he washers. He might have been born an Iverson, but Eimarille had given him her name in the end. Terilyn guarded Lisandro as much as she guarded Eimarille, and Innes’ favor had lingered around all three in the face of Bernard’s desire for political and actual conquest.
The civil war that had separated Daijal from Ashion several hundred years ago had ended by way of armistice. There was no peace treaty between the two countries, as each side considered the other as belonging to them. Bernard had succeeded where others had failed due to the backing of a star god. But in the fallout that came after the Inferno, the North Star had given her own decree and supported what remained of Ashion’s politics in ways Eimarille was still unraveling.
There’d been no invasion back then, with Iverson forced to chip away at Ashion’s power while holding Eimarille hostage. A heavy, constant propaganda push meant Ashion’s western provinces looked more favorably upon Daijal now than they had in over a century. The Ashion parliament was reduced to a body of government beholden to the Daijal court’s approval to pass any major law. For twenty years, Ashion had no queen other than the promise Eimarille represented that Bernard had kept for his own uses.
That was no longer the case.
Ashion would be Eimarille’s, despite the threat of a girl the broadsheets kept reporting on. Eimarille had contingencies in place, courtesy of theKlovod, of which Terilyn had been overseeing since they’d arrived home in New Haven. TheKlovodhad his own orders when it came to makingrionetkas, and she trusted him to do his job.
“Have you news, darling?” Eimarille asked, greeting Terilyn with a soft kiss on the mouth.
“The train with debt slaves will depart Amari tomorrow. The Collector’s Guild has publicized the presence of Nathaniel Clementine on the train through the warrants section in the broadsheets. My sources say the Clockwork Brigade will attempt a raid once it leaves that country’s capital,” Terilyn said.
Eimarille smiled. “Good. And the Dhemlans?”
“Detained the evening of the riot. Quietly, as you requested. They’re being held in a secret location under house arrest in Amari.”
“Good.”
She would not follow Bernard’s road into eradication, for there was use to be found with Caris Dhemlan’s parents. Eimarille knew the pressure points of politics, especially with the nobility. Arresting them for their involvement in the Clockwork Brigade gave her political cover when going after the nobility.
Her assumption of the Clockwork Brigade’s ruling ranks had solidified with Nathaniel’s stolen memories. Duchess Meleri Auclair and her family were the heart of a problem Eimarille needed to cut out like arionetka’s. The duchess had her claws sunk deep into Caris, her ward a problem Eimarille would see dead before summer was over if she had her way.
Bernard had been too heavy-handed during the Inferno. Precision attacks and targeted assassinations, in conjunction with political pressure and propaganda, were far better tools for removing an obstacle.
“Shall we?” Eimarille asked, glancing over at Innes, who smiled at her.
“Your people await,” he said.
Her coronation would not be conducted in a star temple the way her marriage had been. Eimarille did not need the blessing of a high priestess as a representative for the star gods when the only one that mattered had already given his. She would crown herself for all to see, as was her right.
Eimarille led the way through the palace to the grand balcony that overlooked the forecourt and the main boulevard beyond the palace gates. Even before they reached the gallery room it was connected to, she could hear the crowd beyond, with its cheers and impromptu music.
Lisandro was there waiting for her, watched over by his nanny, who curtsied deeply once Eimarille arrived. Her son scampered over to her with an excited smile on his face and a tiny gold circlet clutched in one hand.
“Mama, they said this one is mine,” he exclaimed.
Eimarille crouched to his level, the heavy skirt a bulky bit of fabric between them. It wasn’t enough to stop her from hugging her son. “It was made specially for you, my darling little prince.”
The palace tailors had outfitted him in a matching suit with a day jacket and short pants that hit at his knee. His blond hair was turning a shade that matched her own the older he got, though the color of his eyes was closer in shade to his father’s. That was the only bit of Wesley that shined through in her son’s appearance. Everything else about him—from his looks to his smile to his growing intellect—was all Eimarille.
“Shall I crown you as well?” Eimarille asked with a smile, playfully tapping her son on his nose.
Lisandro giggled before nodding, holding out the small gold circlet with its cluster of sapphires and diamonds in the center. Eimarille took it and lowered it gently upon his fair head, settling it in place.
“There,” she said, pleased with how it looked upon her son’s head. “Now you’re a proper crown prince.”
Terilyn held out her hands, smiling at Lisandro with the same sort of adoration Eimarille always found directed her way. “Come,malynshka. You’ll be with me when we step outside.”
Terilyn had been in his life since he was born, and Lisandro went to her the way he only ever went to Eimarille—secure in the knowledge he was loved and would ever be kept safe. Terilyn swept him up into her arms, propping him on her hip, keeping her hand free to always reach a weapon.
Eimarille stood and turned to face the man whose loyalty to her hadn’t needed mind magic to cultivate. High General Kote Akina had always favored Eimarille over the rest of the royals, and her outreach toward the Daijalan military had borne fruit since she returned to New Haven. Born of a Tovanian father and a Daijalan mother, refused the right to have his name listed in the nobility genealogies, Kote had found his own road in life. It eventually crossed hers, and Eimarille didn’t see it ever deviating.
