Five years ago, there was no Tournament of Thrones or treaty renegotiations when Luc ascended to power. It left one glaring issue.
Luc is silent, skimming the section of the treaty I’ve pointed out to him. He says nothing for several moments, then groans. “I’ll meet with the decurio. Ask the General to get more soldiers in Ophera as soon as possible.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s finished. “He won’t do it.”
“Why not?”
Any other day, it would irritate me how little he knowsabout the laws of the Republic he rules. “The decurio isn’t allowed to send more troops to Ophera. Not without approval in the Honorate.”
During our training sessions over the past couple of weeks, Flynn has been explaining Virdei’s security measures. There are gateposts at intervals around the base of the mountain, each armed with members of the decurio. If there’s a breach in the perimeter, they light a beacon, signaling other gateposts to react and getting the attention of sentries farther up the mountain to mobilize the rest of the army.
Virdei takes securing its borders very seriously. That same courtesy is never extended to Ophera. The placement of soldiers within Virdei and in times of war is up to the discretion of the Praeceptor and the General of the decurio. But for lands outside Virdei during peacetime, it requires the approval of the Honorate.
Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. Normally, the Shadow Queen can nudge the Honorate to do as she wishes. Except there’s someone impersonating the Shadow Queen and blackmailing Honorate to block any order that would allow me to send more soldiers to protect Ophera.
My mind spins. “You don’t need Honorate approval to send more soldiers in times of war.”
Luc frowns. “You’re not suggesting I declare war on Petruvia?”
I want to scream, but he’s right. The treaty is clear. First to spill blood or violate the treaty is the first to declare war. Petruvia might be plotting against us, but they haven’t spilled Virdeian blood. We can’t declare war over a burned piece of parchment I stole from a diplomat’s fireplace.
Knowing he’s right doesn’t ease my panic. Ophera is my home. I’ve spent years trying to protect it in secret, and nowI’m powerless to do anything. “I don’t know.” I throw up my hands, fighting tears of frustration.
Luc’s expression softens. “I’ll talk to the General. We’ll discuss the loophole in the treaty and the possibility of a Petruvian attack, just as soon as the second trial is over. We’ll come up with a plan then.”
I try and fail to tamp down my anger. “After the second trial? That might be too late. You don’t know when they’re planning to attack.”
“Neither do you.” With an infuriatingly calm smile, Luc circles his desk and places his hands on my shoulders. “Mira, listen to me. Iwillhandle this. But I can only do so much at once. There’s a council meeting tomorrow, and the second trial is just a few days away. I can’t deal with this right this second, but I will as soon as I can.”
“Ophera is important to me, Luc.”
“I know. And I’m not going to let anything happen to it. The second trial is in five days. Give me five days, and then I will sort this out.”
I stare at him, doubting.
“I promise, Mira.”
He means it. As he always does.
I pretend to believe him. As I always do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SHADOW SKULKERS
Sef waits for me when I return to my room. I’m happy to see her—her company is always welcome, and my mood is especially dreary after the day I’ve had—but she carries news that makes my spirits sink further: “I was fired from the Tournament committee.”
It takes a moment for the weight of her words to settle. “What? Why?”
“They found out that I work for you. They feel it’s a conflict of interest so soon before the second trial. They don’t want the appearance of an unfair advantage for either candidate.”
The second trial of the Tournament is always a surprise. It’s meant to test the candidates’ ability to think on their feet. I was counting on Sef’s access to the Tournament committee for insight. Without it, I’m as clueless as anyone else.
I collapse on my bed, trying to think through my approaching headache. “We can still make this work. Do you know when and where their next meeting is?”
“Tonight. Conference room on the ground floor.” Sef tilts her head to the side. “Do you think you can find a way to eavesdrop?”
Right now, it’s the only thing I’m sure of. “Definitely.”
