Chapter 8
Leila
Ledgers streaked with black ink and spotted with wax seals covered the table.
Leila and Her allies, both new and old, had been circling the sea of parchment for hours, taking their meals as they scanned scrolls, weighing the legitimacy of tactical maneuvers while servants with bowed heads filed in and out of the study.
Leila was more than familiar with a room full of men barking politics and strategy, but never had it been so wrapped up in Her fate, nor had She ever got much of a say in edgewise.
For the first time, She stood at the head of the table, and the men surrounding Her were at Her whim—according to Keene.
“You have full access to our resources. As many steeds as we can provide, consider them Yours.” Keene pushed aside parchment, muttering orders to a nearby servant. “I’ll send word to my contact in Navé. He’s retired but has many ties to military bases in Thessen and west of Kovahr.”
“Can he provide manpower?” Leila asked.
“If he can’t, we’ll approach the Ethyuans. There are several mercenary camps that owe us a favor. A last resort, of course.”
Tobias and Raphael waited on the other side of the table, arms crossed and brows furrowed while Flynn stood opposite them, hands flat on the parchment as he scoured the ink.
How strange it was to have such young men at Her side rather than aging senators—a welcome change, though the room was muggy with discomfort all the same.
“You’ll be paid in full for your services.” The minimal coin in their keep swept Leila’s thoughts. “There will be installments, but we can provide an initial investment as a show of good faith.”
“My duty is to serve The Savior. The prosperity of Your line is all the payment I need.”
“You will be held in the highest regard in the palace for many years to come.”
Keene nodded, his expression perpetually unreadable. “I’ll have a herald sent out tonight.” He beckoned a nearby servant, who jumped to his side, organizing the tabletop. “If that’s all—”
“Brontes has the entire Thessian army as well as an army of sellswords,” Tobias said. “Surely there’s no harm in contacting your Ethyuan associates now.”
Keene didn’t bother looking his way. “As I said, a last resort.”
“Then we’ll strategize,” Leila said. “We need a line of defense, plus a clear path to retake the fortress.”
“Another time.” Flynn cut Her off, assured and eloquent in ways he’d never shown himself capable of in the tournament. “For now, we secure the assets. We can’t storm the palace without them, so there’s no need to continue.”
Tobias’s eyes narrowed. “And you suggest we remain idle until then? Sit passively while Brontes advances?”
“As opposed to making ill-conceived plans? Yes, I do.”
“With all due respect, we were attacked not far from here,” Raphael said. “Our time is limited as it is. The sovereign already has an advantage. We need to be several paces ahead of him if we aim to gain the upper hand, much less reclaim Thessen.”
“What if both Navé and the Ethyuans fall short?” Tobias added. “Have we a contingency?”
“I do hate to be redundant, but it bears repeating that Trogolia must be our next stop,” Raphael groused. “Brontes wouldn’t expect it, plus their borders are lax.”
“While we appreciate your concern, this sort of decision is better left to the experts.” Flynn looked Tobias hard in the eye. “We’d hate to leave The Savior in inadequate hands.”
Tobias’s jaw flexed, but Leila spoke before he could. “I’m in agreement with Tobias and Raphael. There are lives at stake besides My own—the whole of the realm, in fact. These sorts of matters are best handled with swift and sure action.”
“It’s been decided.” Keene studied a final slip of parchment before rolling it. “You have our horses and coin. We will secure Your men. Save the strategy for a more sensible time.”
“Waiting isn’t an option,” Leila said.
Keene’s gaze locked with Hers, cool as always. “We will reconvene in the morn, Your Holiness. It’s what’s best for You and Your endeavors.”
Tobias and Raphael turned to Leila, who could only scowl in response.
At Her whim. But these walls belonged to the Joseon family, and their word was law.
She may have stood at the head, but Her power was temporary, a courtesy to be snatched away at any moment.
Another self-important cock. Perhaps it wasn’t so different from Senate meetings after all.
“I’ll have the herald draft the message. Flynn”—Keene gestured toward his son—“please show Her Holiness our latest inventory.”
Her stomach soured. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Nonsense. We’ll leave You to the task.” Keene turned to Tobias and Raphael. “Gentlemen, come.”
Tobias looked to Leila once more before following the noble from the room. As the door shut behind them, Leila sighed. Another bold order from an arrogant man. If She hadn’t so desperately depended on his assistance, She most certainly wouldn’t have held Her tongue.
“Oof.” Flynn exhaled. “That was a racket, wasn’t it?”
Her neck and shoulders stiffened. They were alone together, the room around them heavy and grim. She’d been in close quarters with men before, certainly men like Flynn. Rarely did She enjoy their company.
“All right then, inventory.” Flynn took a seat, scanning over a long slip of parchment and shaking his head. “I won’t lie, this part’s a bit boring, but we can sort through it in no time if we . . . Where are my manners? Have a seat.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t be silly, I insist.”
He shot upright and pulled out a chair, beckoning Her twice before She complied.
“All right.” He parked himself in his seat, studious yet again.
“Here are our warhorses ready for battle. The list isn’t too impressive, but You’ll find we have many steeds in training that, I assure You, are more than prepared to carry Your army.
Give them a soldier, and they’re fit to go.
And You already saw our ledgers. You won’t be lacking in coin, that’s for certain.
” He met Her gaze. “You came to the right place, Your Holiness. The Joseon stables won’t fail You. ”
That debonair smirk, the arch of his eyebrow, the wisps of hair dancing across his forehead—She knew the man, but the air around him had shifted, as had his posture, his gait and tongue. He was a stranger in every form but his face, and the disconnect jarred Her.
“Let’s see.” He stroked his chin. “With our stock, plus whatever the old man over on the cliffs of Navé can scrounge up, I suspect . . . God, this must be so confusing. Let me break it down in simpler terms—”
“I’m familiar with inventory, Flynn.”
He flashed a cocksure grin. “Apologies, I was simply trying to make You comfortable.”
“Why?”
He chuckled. “Well, why not?”
“You’re just being so . . . funny.”
“Funny?”
She rolled Her eyes. “‘Have a seat. You came to the right place, Your Holiness. We won’t fail You.’”
“I’m treating You as a proper lady ought to be treated.”
“You never treated Me as a proper lady before.”
“Well, that was my mistake, and I aim to rectify it at once.”
“That was your mistake?” Her eyes narrowed. “A lack of formalities and platitudes?”
Flynn wrinkled his brow, quiet for a moment. “You’re upset. I didn’t know You were The Savior. I didn’t give to You the respect You deserve.”
“I’m not upset about that.”
“I’m trying to make amends. To right my wrongs now that the opportunity has presented itself. I apologized the other night, did I not?”
“Flynn, I intended to keep My title hidden for a reason,” Leila said. “There’s no reason to be ashamed for not knowing. No one knew. That was the point.”
“My performance was flawed.” His voice climbed higher with each word. “But every step I took was with The Savior’s line in mind. I meant no harm, only goodness and glory for Her Holiness.”
“You don’t have to justify yourself. I understand.”
He looked back at Her as if reading Her face, searching for something She couldn’t surmise. Finally, he released a breath. “You’re too kind.”
His body went loose while Leila remained rigid, the strain in Her neck spreading down Her spine. “And what about Tobias?”
Flynn’s eyebrows knitted together. “What about Tobias?”
“You nearly killed him.”
“With all due respect, killing was a part of Your tournament.”
“My father’s tournament,” She said. “And Tobias didn’t attempt to kill you. In fact, he saved your life on more than one occasion.”
“But that was before—”
“Before what?” Her tone turned razor-sharp. “Before you learned he was consorting with the healer?”
Flynn opened his mouth to speak but froze, his mind turning behind his eyes. “You’re right.” He shook his head. “Of course, You’re right. I’ll speak with him. Sort things out. It was all a misunderstanding, anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, I should be thanking You,” he said. “I’ve been so distracted. Foolish, really. Such is the fault of man, yes?”
Leila thawed the slightest bit, but Her nerves remained piqued. She searched the air for color that never came, and though She craved the smallest inkling of Flynn’s thoughts, She hadn’t the desire nor the gall to touch him.
The dreariness of the room hit Her. She glanced toward the window, where the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sky painted purple. They’d spent nearly the full day in that room, yet She felt no closer to defeating Her father.
“I have to go.”
“Oh?” Flynn laughed. “Another important meeting?”
“Yes, actually.” She stood from Her seat, brushing down the pleats of Her dress before heading for the door.
“Can I ask You a question?” Flynn’s voice stopped Her in Her tracks. He stood, staring at Her with a probing gaze. “Why did You reveal Yourself to him?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m just curious. Why did You reveal Yourself to Tobias instead of someone else?”
“I didn’t,” She said. “He chose Me before he knew of My title.”
“And that didn’t bother You?”
“Why would it bother Me?”