I inadvertently ruined her plans, and she inadvertently ruined mine.
I take a heavy breath, trying to think. Petruvia is here, knocking on the doors to Widow’s Hall, attempting to topple us. Unless we can find a way to end this war before it begins.
“What’s Petruvia’s goal, Yelina?” I ask.
She scowls at the floor, refusing to look at me. “To take over Virdei, obviously.”
I nod slowly, processing our options. To do that, they’d want to kill as many members of the Honorate as they could. And the Praeceptor. They’ll be desperate to find and kill Luc to bring Virdei to its knees.
I perk up as an idea comes to me. I know how we can stop this. “Someone get a member of the decurio.”
“Why?” says Luc. “What are you thinking?”
“We need to convince the Petruvian army that you and all the Honorate are being secured in the arena.”
“What will that do?”
“Lure them in so we can trap them inside,” I say. “I have a plan. First, we’re going to need tshira—a lot of it. Then we’re going to need to gather as many people as we can in the ballroom.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CARVED FROM ICE
The hall reverberates with the sound of harsh clangs. The chairs that once filled the ballroom have been shoved to the outskirts, making way for tables and servants.
Every staff member of Widow’s Hall with hands to spare is here, pounding hunks of tshira with metal mallets into as fine a powder as we can manage.
My arm is already sore from the repetitive motion, but I can’t stop.
Magic would make this easier. Most of the decurio are engaged in battle. But there are a few in here. A handful of aikkari with easy access to their sources are at a far table, reducing chunks of tshira to powder in seconds. But there aren’t enough of them. Not for how much tshira we’re going to need.
There’s an unmissable air of panic in the hall, not helped by the war raging right outside our doors.
Every few minutes, Widow’s Hall shudders with the force of Petruvian soldiers fighting to gain entrance.
The building shakes yet again.
People jump, and a few shout, but immediately after, there’s a hush. We’re all quiet, listening to see if they actually managed to get in this time.
My relief only lasts for a moment. With each blow to the exterior of Widow’s Hall, Petruvia is more and more likely tobreak through. Sef works a few tables over with some of her friends from the staff. She’s calm under pressure and despite the chaos and fear soaking the room, Sef’s presence seems to soothe those around her.
Kaidren stands across from me. He’s rolled up his sleeves to work, and I’d be lying if I said his exposed forearms weren’t distracting. “It’s a good plan.” He brings down his mallet, smashing a chunk of tshira to bits. “It’s going to work.”
I swing my mallet faster. It’s a good way to release frustration. “It has to.”
As we speak, decurio ride out from the stables of Widow’s Hall on greyback, pulling covered sledges. They’re empty, but once they reach their destination, we will send a rumor through the Petruvian army that the Praeceptor and Honorate were taken into the arena for safety.
A decurio passes through, pushing a large wooden barrel. Kaidren and I scrape the tshira we’ve ground inside, and he moves to the next table.
I cast a quick glance around, ensuring there’s no one within hearing distance. Even still, I lower my voice as I address Kaidren. “Aja was here.”
His eyes widen. “You meanhere, here? In Widow’s Hall?”
“She came to see me before the coronation. She remembered everything.”
He looks around. “Where is she?”
“I sent her back to Ophera.” I swallow thickly. “There was too much going on today.”
