Chapter 26 Leila
Leila
Leila slammed the door behind Her with as much force as She could summon.
Two door-slams in a row. She was especially indignant, and no amount of noise could properly express Her anger.
She paced the weathered floor of the second inn chamber—Her chamber, the one She shared with Tobias, and his name alone nearly made Her hiss.
Damn that man and his naivety. Leila clenched Her fists so tight Her nails dug into the meat of Her palms, and She reveled in the pain.
The door creaked behind Her, and She busied Herself with a scroll on the tabletop.
The visitor wasn’t Tobias; She could tell by the softness of the footsteps and even more so by the lack of color.
Tobias had been shrouded in a soupy mess of emotions in the other room.
There was no way he’d recovered so quickly.
“Thought You might need some water,” Raphael said.
Leila swallowed, Her throat undeniably parched. “If you’re here to convince Me—”
“I’m here to help You conceive a plan.” Raphael’s voice was level, almost emotionless. “I don’t want to see Tobias in harm’s way. I know You don’t either.”
“You’re lying.”
“I just want a solution to this, that’s all.”
Clenching Her jaw, She turned to face him.
He held a chalice toward Her, and She swiped it up and gulped it down, grateful for something to cool Her temper.
“It’s ludicrous, his idea.” She wiped Her lips and set the chalice on the tabletop.
“Completely absurd. Can you believe he had the gall to say all that, like it was reasonable?”
“It was quite something,” Raphael said.
She studied him out of the corner of Her eye.
He stood poised and unassuming, the air around him still devoid of color.
Damn Her foul mood. It was making Her suspicious.
“Well, if you’re really here to help, I propose we get started straight away.
” She took a seat at the small table. “And I don’t want to hear the word bait ever again. ”
Raphael nodded, pulling up a chair at Her side. “Let’s begin with the borders.”
“Yes, that’s exactly where My mind went.
” She leaned in close, alit with strategy.
This was exactly what She needed—another sharp mind to discuss tactics and schemes with.
She’d had many such sessions with Delphi at the palace.
“Soldiers can’t be on guard forever. Eventually there will be rotations.
If we time our escape perfectly, we can use the seconds of vulnerability to our advantage. ”
“Unfortunately, rotations are often staggered,” Raphael said. “The borders will always be guarded in some capacity.”
“Well, certainly their numbers would be limited during rotations.” Leila remembered the words of Her comrade and smirked. “We can follow Enzo’s suggestion. Kill the soldiers who remain. We’ve done it before.”
“We’ve had great success in our battles thus far. But I’m afraid we’d be facing opposition beyond our capabilities.” Raphael met Leila’s gaze, the look in his eyes forlorn. “There will be hundreds of soldiers at each border. No matter our competence, we will inevitably fail.”
Leila scowled. Perhaps this wasn’t exactly like Her nights with Delphi at the palace. A handful of senators weren’t quite the same as countless soldiers. She sat up straighter.
“We need a grand distraction. A false attack, or an explosion, even. Something to pull the soldiers in the opposite direction while we cross to Kovahr.”
Raphael nodded along, turning Her words over in his mind. “That would be ideal, yes. But a diversion of that magnitude requires a great deal of manpower and supplies. I’m not confident we have the resources.”
“Why are you dismissing every idea I have?”
“It’s of the utmost importance that this plan works. I simply aim to ensure Your victory.”
Leila shifted in Her seat. Her mind was tiptoeing away from Her, trespassing into darkened corners, and She shook Herself just to regain control.
“Perhaps Tobias was right about one thing. We pull forces away from the border. Divert attention.” She plucked a map from the satchel hanging on Her chair and laid it out on the tabletop.
“If Brontes needs a reason to believe we’re in Ethyua, we’ll give him one. ”
“Yes, agreed. That’s a much more manageable direction.” Raphael peered over the map alongside Her.
“What if he receives correspondence from Ethyua? A scroll detailing our false whereabouts.”
“And who is to write and send this scroll?”
Leila cast him a glare, though he ignored it, his eyes set on the tanned parchment. “Hylas can travel to Ethyua,” She said. “I’ll give him the gift of shadow walking. He can send the correspondence anonymously.”
“Yes. A fine plan.” Raphael stopped short, his brow creasing. “Except if he’s never been to Ethyua, shadow walking isn’t much of an option, and their border control is—”
“Harsh,” Leila said. “Right. Shit.”
“Not to mention it’ll take him some time to cross. Time we don’t have.” Raphael cleared his throat, eyeing Leila sidelong. “And we don’t yet know if You’d be able to bless him, considering how fickle Your magic has been these days.”
A growl bubbled in Leila’s throat, but She forced it down. He was helping Her, devising the answer Tobias had failed to find. Patience was necessary no matter Her mood.
“If I were to claim the Ethyuan monarch’s ear and tell him of our predicament—”
“He’d be agreeable, I’m sure,” Raphael said. “But how are we to speak to him when he’s miles away?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
“Our plan must be perfect.” Raphael’s voice was gentle. “There’s no room for error. Not with so much at stake.”
“What if we just shadow walked to safety? Return to the Krios Woods.”
“We need an army, Leila,” Raphael said. “And that army is in Kovahr. What purpose would returning to the woods serve?”
Leila cursed under Her breath. She’d known it was a stupid suggestion before it had even left Her lips, but desperation was nipping at Her, weakening Her resolve.
Surely there was a solution. There had to be.
Tobias crept into the corner of Her mind—his colors muddied with sadness and certainty, the pained look in his large eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Bastard.
“So, maybe bait isn’t the worst idea,” She barely bit out. “We just have to find the right bait.”
“Absolutely.” Raphael pursed his lips as he often did when deep in thought. “What would make the bait particularly effective? Someone from the palace, perhaps?”
Leila snorted. “God, no. Palace workers have always been disposable in Brontes’s eye. He barely saw them as people. Do you know what he did to My mother? Well, not My mother, but My second mother. Never mind. It’s a sad story.”
“What about Delphi?”
Leila started. “My sister?”
“I’m just saying—”
“She’s My sister, Raph.” Her eyes narrowed, boring into Raphael’s skull. “It wouldn’t work, anyway. Brontes knows she’d never speak, and thus he’d have no need to keep her alive. We need someone he believes he could bend. Someone imperative to his cause.”
Raphael nodded along. “Someone who most assuredly is a part of Your voyage and has a close association to You.”
“Exactly.” Leila’s heart raced. They were onto something. “Tobias’s family is out of the question. It would be unspeakably cruel, plus Brontes would find them of little value. No, we need someone of My highest esteem. Someone important to Me, which will make them important to Brontes.”
“I believe You’re right.” Raphael mirrored Her tenacity. “Who best matches that description?”
Leila opened Her mouth to speak but fell silent.
Tobias fit that description.
Power withered away within Her, leaving Her hollow. She leaned back in Her seat. “Dammit, Raph.”
“Leila—”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve told You, I’m here to devise a plan. Whatever will most ensure Your victory.”
His words were muffled by the blood pumping behind Her ears. Something tightened around Her throat—a fist, perhaps Her father’s. Either way it had become harder to breathe. She’d avoided this feeling, had run far from it, chasing a reality all Her own.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Doing what?” Raphael asked.
“Quit playing with Me.”
“If the plan doesn’t work, speak freely. Tell me why.”
Leila took in a shallow breath. It shamed Her to have such little control of Her own body, the only thing in the world that truly belonged to Her. Everything within Her became stiff and clenched, clinging to whatever composure She could manage.
“You said it yourself. My magic is fickle. Even if I give Tobias the gift, we don’t know if he’ll be able to use it.”
“You’ve blessed Tobias a number of times.
He seems quite at ease wielding Your light.
” Raphael looked Her in the eyes, his gaze soft, even sad.
“And since the three of us have traveled far south together, we know he can shadow walk to any of our former whereabouts without trouble. He’s spoiled for choice. ”
His pitying stare broke through Her, a blister upon Her skin. Rage yet again simmered in Her veins, forcing Her to Her feet, but She didn’t yell or slam doors. Instead, She kept still, eyes pointed at nothing as She recounted every maneuver considered, every strategy abandoned.
“There’s no other answer, is there?” She whispered.
“No,” Raphael said. “I’m afraid not.”
Leila tried to take in a breath, but Her lungs wouldn’t expand.
Tobias was right. She’d known it from the moment he’d spoken those words.
Perhaps She’d known sooner but simply couldn’t accept it.
There were countless options, and nearly all of them ended in Her death, and therefore the death of Her realm.
Only one gave Her people some semblance of hope, and it was the one option that would surely ruin Her.
“Brontes will torture him.” Her voice became unsteady. “He may not survive.”
“He will survive,” Raphael said. “And You will release him with Your army at Your side.”
He stood barely an arm’s length away. She wasn’t sure when he’d abandoned his seat or closed the space between them, too caught up in the firing of Her heartbeat. I can’t do it. I won’t. But the choice wasn’t Hers alone, and Her steely composure was beginning to collapse.
“He loves You, Leila.” Raphael crept closer, placing a warm hand on Her shoulder. “Let him make this sacrifice for You. For Thessen.”
Her throat caught, the walls around Her slipping. “I’d like to be alone, please.”
She didn’t watch as he left the room, sucking in a desperate breath once the door closed behind him.
In an instant, Her defenses crumbled—Her lungs heaved for air, hot tears streaked Her cheeks, and She let out a sob that shamed Her.
She couldn’t do it. She was a queen, and yet in that moment, She would’ve sacrificed every Thessian life to save Tobias.
She balled Her hands into fists, shaking as anger and grief rocked Her insides.
To hell with the God that granted Her this title—this curse.
She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready.
She couldn’t leave Tobias, yet She had no choice.