“No.”
“What if I ask nicely?”
“I’d think about it longer. But I still wouldn’t listen.”
He leans back and sighs, deep and long-suffering, though I don’t miss the faint twitch of his lips.
“Let’s go.”
Torches line the narrow corridors as we head toward Tairna’s office, located one floor above us. The scratched wooden floor creaks beneath our boots, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder just how stable the structure really is.
The door to Tairna’s office is simple. Unassuming. If Sura hadn’t pointed it out earlier, I’d never have guessed this is where the leader of the camp spends her time. Zev’s lone knock echoes around us, flames glinting off his thick iron cuff.
Tairna bids us to enter—she doesn’t look surprised by our visit.
Her office is small and austere, the kind of space where every object has a purpose and nothing is wasted on vanity. A large, battered table dominates nearly half the room, its surface scratched and scarred. Several mismatched chairs are tucked in around it.
The only hint of sentiment is a single painting leaning against a wall: a striking image of Mother Valca, its dark smoking peak rising above a field of red-gold lava. In the sky, a jagged lightning bolt pierces through the night-black paint.
“My son and his beautiful wife,” she greets as we enter, a wide smile lighting her face. “May the Flames bless your union with eternal happiness.” She beams at me. I shift awkwardly on my feet, managing a weak smile. Zev just grunts.
“Is your room suitable?” Tairna continues, gesturing to the chairs across from her. “Anything you need?”
A beat.
“Our room is lovely,” I reply, glancing at Zev. Did he take another vow of silence? “Thank you.”
Zev pulls out a chair for me, then folds his large frame into another. I guess we’re pretending to be a happy couple.
His mother gazes at us, chin resting over steepled fingers.
“Tell us your plan,” Zev says gruffly.
Ah. There’s my charming husband.
Tairna leans back in her chair, a soft smile curving her lips. “Always so impatient, Vayru.” Zev remains stone-faced, and her smile slowly dims. “The plan is simple. We attack both Tundrayn and Arbinj on the same day. Obtain control of the capitals at once.”
“You don’t have enough men for that.”
“Oh, but we do.” Tairna’s smile returns, though it’s conspiratorial this time. “Tell me, how is that Volcan-Arbinji alliance coming along?” Her dark eyes glitter in the lamplight. “It isn’t.Because they’ve allied withus.”
Zev’s lips part in surprise, and I’m certain the same shock is mirrored on my face.
My husband recovers before I do. “And then?”
“And then we declare Mayah—and you—rulers over both kingdoms. The people will accept her—the healer princess. She’s already won over the Arbinji citizens.”
“And me?” Zev’s voice is cold as ice.
“Your reputation in the war … you won’t be well-received in Tundrayn. But at Mayah’s side, I’m certain her people will accept you in time. And—”
“There’s a slight problem with your plan,” I interject, biting my lip. “My people … they—” I loose a shuddering breath, chin quivering. “At the Tundrayni camp, we—”
My throat closes up. Hot tears blur my vision.
“That’s where Mayah learned it was Tormik that killed her mother,” Zev supplies, eyeing me sideways. His hands clench into fists in his lap. “Tormik and a few men escaped, but the remaining warriors attacked us. Mayah and I managed toprotectourselves.” Another sideways glance. “The warriors are … gone.”
A look of understanding crosses Tairna’s face. “You think your people won’t accept you as queen because you killed your own warriors?”
