Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The hearth in my father’s study sputters and gasps as the red embers die to black ash.
I didn’t bother putting on more wood – not at this late hour.
Besides, a thick blanket will do for warmth, and candlelight is far more convenient for my reading.
I lit the candles a few hours ago, but already their tall ivory stems have collapsed into a greasy, citrusy puddle.
Slender yellow tongues wobble precariously on their shrinking islands.
I rub my brow again, reading over the words from the latest scouting report near our borders.
Raids have begun, troops advancing into our lands to test our response.
Which is, of course, not ideal. We retreated with good reason, but also left next to nothing behind for them to find.
Fields are empty – all seeds and food stores taken when fleeing.
Anything not able to be transported was burned.
But the raids are a sign this is getting started.
I reach for my tea again, which is cold by now.
I finish the dregs, wincing at the bitterness that accompanies its uncomfortable chill.
Next to it is my dinner, which Giulia brought in when it became clear I wouldn’t make it to the dining table this evening.
Again. It too has gone cold, my attention consumed by the insurmountable pile of reports and papers before me. Again.
I set down the report in my scarily small “finished” pile and get up, stretching my neck. Fresh air, that’ll help. I go to my window and crack it open, allowing the slippery, sweet night air to trickle into the stuffy space.
The cold air brings a tightening to my gut.
This will wake me up, get me moving again.
Keep me alert to the numbers before me. More than once this last week I have woken up at my desk, my head still buried amongst the pages of my work.
I have a lot to accomplish this evening before I can call it a night.
I can’t afford to slow down, to let anything slip. Not for this city. Not for Giulia.
My stomach churns and my blood curdles at the terrifying thought of her Fate should this city fall.
All Halice will suffer. Anyone left behind will be subjugated, maybe forced into the army.
Halice will be used as a launch point for the Holy States to invade the rest of the Independent States.
Halice will cease to be known as a symbol of beauty and innovation across the world.
The people will be punished for their defiance.
Would they rebel? Would they resist? I imagine many would for as long as they could.
But would it do any good? What would it bring about?
And Giulia. If she stays … her Fate would be unimaginable.
Would she be tortured, tormented? I can face the cost of my failure, but Giulia should never have to face that.
None of this is her fault. None of this is her doing.
She never signed up to the responsibility, and I refuse to let the blood that spills be hers.
Tahira never answered me today, but I know she’ll do it. The favour I asked. Even if she has to knock Giulia unconscious and drag her onto the ship. We understand each other like this, in a way very few others do.
I pull my blanket tighter around my shoulders as I return to my seat, settling down amidst the creaking furniture.
I pick up a fresh report, scanning over the first few words.
Itching creeps into my eyes. I sigh, rubbing them in an effort to relieve the discomfort, but tingling takes root in my fingertips.
Bile pools in my throat as revulsion slams its way forwards in my mind.
A hammering fist assaults the front door, echoing like thunder through the house.
I set down the report and sigh. It’s late. Giulia will have long gone to bed. Besides, I know it’s for me.
I pull off my blanket shawl, setting it in my seat before exiting my study.
The door is hammered again, impatient and furious as I grow closer.
His red-hot energy leaks through the door.
I hesitate as I reach the door, not feeling strong enough for an argument with Idris right now.
Not really feeling strong enough for anything.
But he won’t leave unless I talk to him. What if it’s an emergency? What could possibly break his staunch silence after so long?
I pull open my door to see the tall, broad blond figure of Idris Patricelli waiting for me with a contorted expression.
Face red, breathing heavily, eyes wild. This is the closest we’ve been to each other in weeks.
Not since that dark night in the High Chamber.
Wicked razors swipe at my skin. A fist full of embers is shoved down my throat as my bones char with each spasm of my heart.
“What in Fate’s Fury is this?” he snarls, holding up a slightly crumpled sheet of paper. I narrow my eyes on it and realise that paper shuddering in his iron grip is his copy of the contingency document I signed earlier today.
This is what he’s got worked up over?
“Exactly what it looks like,” I answer, summoning the dregs of my grace to remain calm. “Should I become incapacitated, you’ll become Maestrus. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to read.”
I make to shut the door but Idris’s hand leaps out like lightning to pry it open. He pushes into my home, throwing the paper at me as I retreat several paces, fighting for even a single, broiling breath. I look up at him, eyes wide as he stalks into my home like an invader, movements sharp.
“Why?” He growls, hands twitching as he forces them to his sides. That word bites with fury. I take the page he thrusts at me, fold it up neatly and offer it back to him.
“So the fight isn’t over if I die,” I answer with a frown. “The Holy States have already proven they can get operatives into this city—”
“Is this a bribe?” Idris snaps. I balk at the suggestion, blinking hard.
“What? No!” I frown.
“Do you think I’m lusting after power?” Idris snaps in disgust. “Do you think I’m pissed that you’re Maestrus instead of me?”
“I really don’t have time to think about you Idris,” I lie, letting a tone of resigned exhaustion bleed through my words.
“Then what the hell is this supposed to be?” Idris stalks closer to me, closing the space I need, that fragile buffer between him and me splintering into a thousand pieces.
“NO!” My panic erupts from my teeth, sharp and desperate as I throw up my hands, fleeing several paces backwards until my back hits the wall.
“Stop.” The word leaves my lips as half command and half strangled plea.
Idris stills, eyes burning like I slapped him. I blink hard, eyes dropping to the floor, summoning any distance to have this conversation calmly, rationally.
“Having a contingency plan should be self-explanatory,” I begin, words barely a whisper.
“Obviously!” Idris all but roars, staying exactly where he was before. “But why me?”
“Because despite everything, I know you’ll look after this city and do what it takes to ensure its survival.
You value democracy too much to be corrupted by absolute power.
You have battle experience. You’ve got a rapport with the people and a name they recognise that carries weight.
More importantly, I trust that you can’t be bought by Nouis or the Holy Mother or some other hostile entity. ”
Idris glares at me, his hands twitching like they’re itching to wrap around my neck.
The artwork this afternoon jolts to the forefront of my mind and I shove my shaking hands into the material of my skirts.
Have I just handed him the push he needs to finally kill me? To fulfil the roles Fate demands of us?
“Pick someone else,” Idris demands, fury shuddering across his tongue.
“Who?” I repress the urge to groan with exhaustion against the fire threatening to swallow me whole and leave behind nothing but cinders.
“Savino is spoiling for a fight and a chance to live up to his father’s war hero legacy.
He wants the prestige, the chance at honour and glory, and can be easily manipulated by it.
Maggia will do anything to prevent the most immediate loss of life, to preserve those here and now – to the point she’s terrified of the fight at all.
She’ll do anything to avoid a battle and that can so easily be exploited and Halice would be lost. And Leone is so eager to prove himself that the gentlest suggestion could set his mind racing right now, particularly after he almost fell for Ulrico’s schemes.
He’s desperate to throw the memory of that to the depths of the After if he can.
It needs only the slightest nudge to convince him to do anything. ”
“Says the woman who’s been manipulating all of them since she took power,” Idris spits with venom. His words bite, but I refuse to flinch. I sigh and wrap my arms around myself.
“Better me than the enemy.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t even think to ask me first.” Idris seethes, then laughs without any mirth. “Scratch that, of course you wouldn’t bother talking to me. You don’t talk to me about your plots and schemes anymore.”
“What are you—”
“No!” Idris charges on so loudly the windows are practically rattling, drowning out my response with rage and fury. “You don’t care who gets hurt or what other people want. So long as you get what you want.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, exasperated. I didn’t want any of this. What I want doesn’t matter and has no bearing on anything at all.
“I know it was Fiora that had me poisoned,” hisses Idris. “And that you sent her away before we could catch her.”
My stomach bottoms out as the blood drains from my face. He knows – of course he’s angry. I’m angry too. I want Fiora punished just as much as him, but I can’t. Not if this plan is going to work. Only Fiora has the connections and information to make it work.
Idris throws out his hands in anger, as though taunting me to answer.
A second of hot silence passes between us until Idris gives up.