“I know you didn’t,” Eimarille said soothingly. “If you had, I would know, and you would have shared your husband’s funeral shroud.”
Ximena flinched at that, hands fisted at her side, but her eyes held no hatred as they stared at Eimarille. “I don’t want the children to see.”
“Kote will coordinate the body being taken to the crematorium. You’d do well to summon a star priest in the morning and strike your former husband’s name from the nobility genealogies.”
Ximena nodded, still in shock but willing to do whatever Eimarille wanted in order to keep what remained of her family alive and her bloodline intact.
Eimarille stepped around the body bleeding out on the cobblestones and extended her hand to Ximena. She jerked her gaze away from her husband’s lifeless form and automatically reached for Eimarille’s hand, ever the lady and gracious hostess. “My queen.”
“Come, Lady Ximena Beltre. We’ll adjourn to your private study so I may explain why I favored your loyalty over a traitor’s. You must understand that cogs have no place in this world, no matter their bloodline.”
Ximena swallowed, the peach silk of her gown no longer a match for a bloodstained cravat. But she was alive, and like anyone who knew how close they’d come to death, Ximena was willing to never look back at the body of the man she’d loved and married and raised children with because his road had ended and hers still yet needed to be walked.
Two
EIMARILLE
Istal was a frontier military city Eimarille had first seen as a child, when Innes had helped steal her out of Amari on a train heading west. Growing up, Eimarille had focused her attention on the Daijal court and all the many bloodlines that paraded through the palace in New Haven. Some had longstanding ties to Istal, many of them military men and women, all of whom had been quietly grateful for the respect she had shown their duty to country.
The Daijalan officers who joined herself, Terilyn, and Kote for a command meeting in Istal that day all wore their ranking pins with pride and saluted her when she swept into the large room. The space was grand, all dark wood and rich carpeting, with a window that overlooked the parade grounds outside where soldiers performed drills. Oil paintings depicting victorious battles hung from the wall while the flags of Daijal and Ashion were positioned on poles at the end of the table, joined by the Urovan flag.
Half the table was filled with Urovans, most from the diplomatic corps, but several officers from that northern country had also joined them. The contingent was led by their ambassador, Maksim, a man who belonged to Eimarille more than he ever would anyone else these days. Hidden beneath the fur-lined brocade jacket Maksim wore were the scars of arionetka. He’d been the first one Eimarille had ever seen made, a living embodiment of control, and she held the strings.
Maksim stood at her arrival, smiling warmly across the table at her. “Your Royal Majesty.”
“Ambassador Maksim.” She smiled at everyone after that greeting, giving a graceful little nod as she took a seat. “My thanks to you all for making yourselves available on such short notice.”
She and her entourage had been in Haighmoor a few days ago, having flown to Istal on the royal airship that morning. Lisandro was ecstatic to be around so many soldiers, having a fascination for them that she gently encouraged. When he was older, after he completed his general schooling, she’d let him join Evergreen if he liked. The military school back in New Haven was the premier education spot for officers, and Eimarille knew it would only instill a sense of duty in Lisandro his father had never found.
For now, her son was safely tucked away in the visiting quarters of the garrison, watched over by his attendants, the royal guards, and a Blade who had met them at the end of the gangplank when they’d docked in the airfield. He was safe, but Eimarille always worried about her son when he wasn’t by her side.
“High General Kote updated me when we were in Haighmoor on the status of the front lines in the east. To that end, I am here to talk about our southern efforts and our foray into the Gulf of Helia.” Eimarille looked across the table at Maksim, meeting his gaze. “I understand we are to expect another flotilla of submersibles to take up position in the Gulf of Helia. What of the rest of your fleet?”
“Our icebreaking ships are carving a path through the ice floes of the Northern Tundra in the east. When it is open, the fleet of submersibles will make their way to our agreed-upon eastern targets,” a Urovan officer said. Judging by the gold ranking pins on the lapels of his coat, he was a captain who most likely commanded a submersible.
“How long until the path to open water is completed? We are already at Fifth Month.”
“At least another month. We had a harsh winter, and the ice is slow to melt this year, but we are still within the approved timeframe. Once the way is cleared, the submersibles will be prepared to launch from Matriskav at your command. It will take several weeks to reach their assigned targets as they must move carefully so as to not be discovered once they make it up the rivers.”
Eimarille nodded before glancing to her left at where Kote sat. “Your thoughts on this course of action?”
“The Urovans have proven to be worthy allies, my queen. The targets were well thought out on their end and will only aid our efforts on land. I and my fellow officers have no concerns about their command decisions,” Kote said.
“Excellent. And what of our southern border?”
“VezirJoelle has requested additional troops, but to deliver those numbers requires reassigning some companies,” another officer said. She was looking at her notes, the paper marked up with the Secured stamp that limited who had the authority to view it. “We wanted your approval to do so, as we’re unsure if you have any ongoing communications with thevezirwe should be aware of, my queen.”
Eimarille was careful to keep the distaste off her face at the mention ofvezirJoelle Kimathi, of the House of Kimathi. Joelle was a needed ally, but she’d overstepped herself more than was helpful last summer. She’d never managed to claim the Imperial throne during the Conclave of Houses, which had forced Eimarille to settle on her fallback plan, one that didn’t have Solaria as her country’s ally through Joelle as the Imperial empress.
A problem, to be sure, but Eimarille excelled at overcoming those. Presently, the Legion guarded the border that ran through the Southern Plains between Solaria and Daijal and Ashion. The southern part of the continent belonged to Solaria, though not all the land was safe to travel through. The Wastelands were a breeding ground of spores and revenants, and she knew wardens hadn’t left those borders the way they’d left Daijal.
“My communications withvezirJoelle have no bearing on this decision. Spare who you can to head south and shore up that border. We need to maintain our defense there. I’ll leave the details to High General Kote,” Eimarille said.
Kote nodded. “I’ll see it handled after the meeting. We have war machines coming off the production line we can send south to hold the line.”
Companies owned by Daijalan bloodlines and merchants had thrown their support into the war effort back home. Steel and clarion crystal remained in abundance and were being transported weekly to the factories in the middle of Daijal churning out weapons, ordnance, automatons, and transport vehicles. War was expensive, but the Daijalan parliament had put forth a new tax break bill that was being lauded in the business circles.
It didn’t matter that E’ridia and Solaria had embargoed trade with her country. Daijal had stored up what it needed for the war effort over the years, and Urova’s clarion crystal mines were open to Daijal’s needs. The war might not be won yet, but they were in the best position to see it finished before the end of the year.
