Joelle outright chuckled at that before shifting on her feet to face Lore. “You’re a prince.”
“To some.”
“Eimarille considers you a threat, the same way she considers Caris.”
“I don’t want the starfire throne.”
She seemed surprised at the firmness of his denial. “You lack ambition. Such a stance would see you killed in Solaria.”
“You haven’t shot me yet.”
“I know your worth, both to Eimarille and Vanya.”
Soren’s heart sank at the mention of Vanya. He’d left their bed with a promise he’d return and had that promise forcibly broken. Coming so close to having the one thing he’d ever wanted—Vanya in his arms again—only to have it snatched away from him was an ache that kept him company in the cell like a nightmare.
“Your honor collars you. All the starfire you possess, and you refuse to use it.” Joelle shook her head at that, clear disgust in the gesture.
Soren’s gaze flicked to Lore’s unconscious form, then back to Joelle. “I put people first, unlike you.”
If she thought it an insult, Joelle didn’t let it show. “I have done nothing but put people first for the good of Solaria.”
“You allied yourself with Eimarille, and look where that’s got you.” For some reason, that made her flinch ever so slightly around the eyes. Soren took notice, and he wondered what had transpired during the time he’d been a prisoner. “What did she promise you? The Imperial throne?”
“My dealings with Eimarille are of no importance to you.”
“I’ve seen what she’s done in Ashion and in the Warden’s Island. Do you think she won’t do worse to your country?”
At that, Joelle did laugh, a dry, disbelieving sound. “Ah, you don’t know.”
Soren stiffened. “I’ve been stuck in a cell. Of course I don’t know what has happened outside it.”
“Eimarille attacked E’ridia’s largest air force base and downed the walls around Rixham in an effort to deprive Ashion of allies. You, Prince Alasandair, are my insurance to deny Eimarille the starfire throne after she kills Caris.”
For a moment, the words didn’t penetrate. When they did, nausea roiled in his gut so suddenly he had to take a deep breath to settle his stomach. It seemed unfathomable that Eimarille would target Rixham and release the massive horde of revenants trapped behind those city walls, but he didn’t think Joelle had any reason to lie.
Joelle stepped closer to him, causing her guards to tense, worried, he supposed, about her safety. But Lore was one pinch away from an excruciatingly painful death, and Soren wouldn’t let her die just so that he could save himself.
“Eimarille thinks to split the Legion’s forces. She thinks the Houses will cave beneath her grand ambitions. She does not know us and our ways,” Joelle said.
“Can you even call yourself Solarian after all you’ve done?” Soren asked.
Joelle lifted her chin, eyes glittering beneath the gas lamp light, determined to walk a road that would see his own destroyed. “All that I have done, I have done for my country.”
“And how many Houses do you think would support you once word got out that your allegiance with Daijal was the cause of the horror crawling out of the south?”
Not even the House of Aetos would stand with her, he was certain. That House would be carved to pieces the same way Joelle’s would the moment Soren made it back to Vanya and reported their betrayal. That nebulous future was what he clung to when Joelle had the guards return him to the cell.
After the shackles were removed and the door shut, leaving him in darkness, Soren called forth a flicker of starfire. The brilliant burn flared to life in the palm of one hand, warm and bright, like the eternal flame above.
With nothing else to lose, Soren prayed to the Dawn Star that had guided him down his road since the Inferno, hoping she would hear him.
Eight
BLAINE
The arrival of a small squadron of E’ridian war airships flying toward Cosian in the morning was a sight to see. Unprompted cheers rose up from the ground crew around him in the airfield. Blaine remained on the pier, pressed up against the railing to stay out of the way as the ground crew tasked with anchoring the new arrivals got to work.
He kept an ear out as the engines all changed pitch for the final descent, pleased to note nothing sounded off. Blaine kept his eyes on theCelestial Spriteas it finally settled into its anchor berth, aeronauts and ground crew hurrying about to tie the ropes down. Minutes later, the gangplank was cranked out, two ground crew locking it into place on the pier.
