“Wait here,” he murmured.
Blaine pressed his forehead to the door, trying to leach some of the coolness there into his overheated skin. He listened as Honovi ran the faucet in their attached washroom and didn’t flinch too much when Honovi returned to clean up the mess they’d both made. Blaine’s trousers were salvageable, but he’d need to change his shirt. Honovi, when he finally turned around to meet his husband’s gaze, didn’t look nearly as ruffled as he felt.
“I don’t think they heard you, but they certainly heard us,” Honovi said with a faint smirk, glancing aside at the top hinge.
“You were impatient,” Blaine replied.
Honovi kissed him softly, tugging at his ruined shirt. “With good reason. But now I am hungry, so let’s get you dressed and head downstairs for Caris’ tea.”
Blaine hummed agreement before easing past his husband to get ready again.
When they made it downstairs, with Blaine in a changed shirt and Honovi looking far too satisfied, Caris didn’t say anything, merely raised an eyebrow and smiled softly as she served them some tea.
Nine
CARIS
Caris smoothed her hands over the broadsheet on the table, fingertips lingering over the blurred faces of her parents. The photograph had been taken from a distance, both her parents standing in front of a civic building in Amari, their hands shackled together in front of them. Their clothes, while neat and not of a prison set, hung on their frames in a way she wasn’t familiar with. The shadows edging their cheeks were concerning, but she was half a country away from them, in no position to question after their health. She knew anyway that Eimarille wouldn’t have been kind to them.
She couldn’t even be sure they were alive, despite the article taking up the top front page. Caris was well aware of how manipulative Eimarille was, and planting a story to entice Caris out of Cosian was something she had tried before. Threatening a trial and execution of her parents had surprised no one. Knowing she could not act just yet left Caris aching with regret.
But they had a chance now, she knew, to take back Ashion. She lifted her gaze from the table, glancing down its crowded length in both directions. Officers from the Ashion army, several from the Solarian Legion, and those of the E’ridian air force had gathered in Cosian for a critical alliance meeting. Now that the E’ridian treaty had been signed and their air force committed, Ashion had a chance at surviving—if they could take their capital back.
“A head-on push to Amari will tip our hand well before we make that city’s walls,” the Imperial General Yiannis Diomandis, of no House, said in heavily accented Ashionen. “Retaking the city is important, but all of Daijal’s forces have come to bear in the eastern provinces of your country. Breaking that line will take time, but it won’t be quick enough to save who you wish.”
Yiannis’ face was weathered from years spent beneath the desert sun, his red-and-white checkeredeffiyehperfectly set on his head, the bulk of the fabric falling to one side. His tan uniform held an assortment of ranking pins, medals, and braid, making him look stiff with the weight of it, but he’d been kind when he greeted Caris with the salute of his people. His expression was still kind but tempered with something like regret as he looked back at her.
“I am aware that Eimarille is prepared to judge my parents guilty well before the ground offensive can get underway, but they would be the first to say that Ashion comes first,” Caris said quietly. Which was true, but it didn’t lessen her heartache any. Her parents had been cogs in the Clockwork Brigade, a road that had helped lead Caris to this very table. “Ashionmustcome first if we are to keep Daijal from gaining any more ground. I know the plans must change due to the attacks that occurred within your own borders, but the way forward, as General Votil has explained it to me, remains the same. We must retake Amari.”
She looked at the maps spread out across the table, battle plans inked into the paper with notes from more than a dozen hands. Caris had gotten better at learning military shorthand and understood the gist of what her generals had planned. Even with the aid of half the Solarian Legion and the squadrons of war airships from E’ridia’s air force, pushing Daijal back all the way to Amari would be a huge undertaking.
“To do that, we need a distraction,” General Clarence Votil said, glancing at Caris. “Our queen made a suggestion weeks ago that I’ve had our best strategists working on. With the addition of our allies, it could prove fruitful. We need to split Daijal’s focus to break their front lines.”
Admiral Eirik nodded in agreement, lifting a hand to stroke his neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. The plaid sections on his shirt tied him to Clan Lightning. “We’re all in agreement about the offensive push needed to reach Amari, but it’s the distraction we’ve not decided upon. The Daijal army is entrenched in the provinces, and the revenants are many. What is your plan?”
“New Haven,” Caris said. “We need to attack New Haven.”
All eyes returned to her, and she lifted her chin beneath their scrutiny. She might not be adept at military strategy, but she knew what a capital city meant to its people. Two could play the game Eimarille had set upon this board when it came down to it.
“The Daijal navy has their port cities and the river mouth sealed off with their ships. We can assume Urova’s submersible fleet has some presence in the Gulf of Helia as well,” Clarence said.
“The Tovanians can counter that with depth charges and sea mines. They did so around our borders, though not before the Urovans had slipped past the patrols into the wetlands,” Yiannis said.
Caris blinked at him. “Your treaty with the Tovanians still stands?”
“It does. We believe the Urovans were already lying in wait within our wetlands to target Rixham before the Tovanian patrols reached the eastern shores of our country. We do not blame them for failing to stop the attack when none of us thought Daijal would ever cross the line as they have.”
“If it’s a pitched sea battle between Tovanian ship-cities against Daijal’s navy and Urova’s submersibles, I’ll pick the Tovanians. They know the open seas better than anyone.” Clarence looked at Caris, using his stick to tap at the small marking on the map that indicated Oeiras on the west of Solaria. “With your approval, Ashion can send another envoy to the Tovan Isles and ask for an alliance.”
Caris nodded slowly. “The Imperial emperor agreed to provide an introduction to their ambassador in Oeiras. The sooner we send an envoy south again, the better.”
“If we can convince the Tovanians to lend aid with their ship-cities for us to target New Haven, Eimarille will be forced to split her forces and pull some back to her capital. Such an effort will be the crack in their wall we need,” Yiannis said.
The officers devolved into a conversation about logistics of pulling off such a feat, something that Caris followed along as best she could before she decided she wasn’t needed for this part. Clearing her throat, she stood, causing everyone to stop speaking and rise to their own feet to salute her out of the room after she said her goodbyes.
Maurus waited for her in the hall, the captain of her Royal Guard ever at attention. He and several others escorted her out of the building that had become the command headquarters for the war, the streets surrounding it filled with people in uniform. Those who saw her as she exited the building came to strict attention and saluted. Maurus helped her into the back seat of the motor carriage before climbing behind the steering wheel himself. Their small convoy of vehicles drove away from the civilian-turned-military-occupied buildings in favor of home.
Caris rolled down the window, allowing for a sluggishly warm breeze to blow over her face as they drove. The temperature today was hot, summer in Eighth Month always a ruthless season in the Eastern Basin. She’d grown up with the heat and didn’t mind it as much as Meleri or Dureau did. Lore had tolerated it better, and Caris tried not to think too much on what had become of her friend.
