“Soren hasn’t left the Warden’s Island. The governor still hasn’t assigned him a border, and my contact embedded in the construction crew says it’s unlikely she will anytime soon.”
Joelle frowned. “Why not?”
“Punishment, perhaps. Some of the other wardens know he was the emperor’s lover for a time. Not many are pleased about that.”
None in the Houses appreciated that relationship either, considering it was Vanya’s ill-fated decision to let the warden be privy to the funeral rites of the royal dead that had seen Solaria hit with sanctions.
What no House knew—what she didn’t believe Eimarille even knew—was that Soren was most likely the long-thought-dead Ashion prince. Joelle’s suspicions had taken root ever since the destruction of the quarry where the first death-defying machine had been hidden. While Soren had not once shown hints of being able to cast starfire, what clues Joelle had gathered pointed to such a likelihood.
While Caris Rourke was beyond her reach, the warden was entirely different. No one knew of his possible bloodline, and if Joelle had him in her grasp, she’d be able to threaten both Vanya and Eimarille. Keeping the warden alive could force both royals’ hands to pay Joelle’s price as she pitted them against each other—Vanya to save his lover and Eimarille to ensure her brother died so she could secure her claim to the starfire throne.
All of Joelle’s plans for blackmail rested on getting control of the warden, but extracting one from their island was near impossible these days and had been even before Eimarille approved the attack on them last year. Even Joelle had been taken aback at that decision when word had reached Bellingham. It had made her rethink how she dealt with the Daijalan queen.
“Construction is still ongoing?” Joelle asked.
The spy nodded. “The crews will stay through at least the end of summer. Things might change depending on how the war goes and if Daijal is successful in annexing Ashion.”
“Keep your contact on the island, and stay close yourself. The moment Soren is given a border to guard, I want to know where.”
The spy sketched a shallow bow. “Of course,vezir.”
Joelle snuffed out the sparks of starfire and turned away, heading back the way she’d come through the secret passageway. Her handmaiden ensured the door behind them was securely locked before following her up the stairs and back to her room where nothing was amiss.
“All is well,vezir?” the handmaiden who stood guard at the doorway of the closet asked.
“Yes,” Joelle replied, thinking about how, someday soon, she would have what her House deserved.
Seven
CARIS
Caris resisted the urge to pinch her nose in frustration and grief as she stared at the tally of the dead and the list of cities and towns that had fallen to Daijal when the front lines had gained ground east. One of the cities had held a production plant, and now it was nothing but rubble, according to the tintype photograph someone had smuggled out with them during the retreat. She picked up the tintype, studying the smudge of shadows on it that had once been a building.
“We can’t afford to lose another production line, to say nothing of the people who die for our cause,” Caris said into the quiet that had settled over the table after General Clarence Votil finished delivering his report. “Have any of our envoys brought back news of an alliance?”
Meleri shook her head, expression rigidly neutral. “Unfortunately, no. Both E’ridia and Solaria have rebuffed our requests for an alliance or purchase of supplies.”
Caris set aside the tintype photograph. “They won’t take our aurons?”
“I believe the worry is they aren’t sure where the funding would come from.”
She could understand why another country would be concerned about how payment would be enacted. The Ashion banking system had gone through an upheaval at the start of the war, breaking away from the banks in Daijal and reallocating capital amongst them. Bloodlines and companies had helped set an example by not making a run on the banks, but there was only so much cash circulating at the moment.
The bloodlines themselves weren’t exactly giving a full-throated defense of Caris’ claimed position. She knew that calling herself Rourke without proof would only take her so far. Being able to cast starfire wasn’t enough in the long run. The bloodlines of Ashion were split in their support, and the geographical lines weren’t easily cut.
Some bloodlines in the eastern province had refused Caris’ overtures, aligning themselves with Daijal. Other bloodlines in the western provinces had never taken to Daijal’s propaganda and were steadfast in their support of Caris and Ashion. Knowing who was friend and who was foe was a delicate political dance Caris knew she’d made missteps in. Even with Meleri’s teachings and backing, it was difficult for Caris to feel like she was a queen.
“Have our envoys keep asking to be heard,” Caris said, looking up from the reports and maps scattered across the table. Too many eyes stared back at her as if she held all the answers, and she tried not to flinch at the attention. “Perhaps Solaria and E’ridia will come around in time.”
“And if they don’t?” Lore asked from her seat to Caris’ right.
“I am not Eimarille. I won’t interfere with another country’s decisions.”
Blaine and Honovi weren’t sitting in on this meeting, though they were still present in Cosian. The pair had reported to her the sinister machinations Eimarille had employed to try to destabilize their government.Rionetkasin high political positions was a chilling threat E’ridia was already facing. News out of Solaria came through a chokehold these days, but Caris was certain the Imperial throne had faced the same enemy.
“We can’t rely on others to give us aid. We must continue as if we are alone,” Meleri said.
“Which we are,” Clarence agreed grimly. “We have no allies, despite every overture we can think of. I don’t know what good our diplomats can do if they keep getting the same answer with every request. Daijal keeps pushing the front line closer to us. If we can’t keep our production up, if we can’t recruit more soldiers, we’ll be overrun before the end of summer.”
