The rest of the table seemed oblivious to the silent conversation between the two Easterners. They focused on what Aldrik was saying, “... gave her a Crimson Proclamation.” “A hollow title,” the Emperor scoffed with a shake of his head.

“I respectfully disagree.” Erion had an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth as his eyes darted about the table like he was watching a spectacular play unfold before him. “As a proud member of one of the oldest families in the West, I would take care to honor the Windwalker as a lady, if the Lord Ci’Dan has so decreed.”

Despite gaining support, Vhalla was surprised to see Aldrik’s mouth tense briefly into a frown. The two Western Lords stared at each other for a long moment. Even Elecia seemed to pause her inspection of Aldrik to squint at Erion with apparent distrust.

“I would agree as well,” another Western man vocalized.

“I welcome the Windwalker into the Western Court.” A woman gave Vhalla a small nod of her head.

The Emperor scowled and opened his mouth to speak. “

Excellent. Now that that is settled, shall we resume?” Aldrik got in the final word and the table awkwardly turned back to the papers at hand, beginning to discuss something about the training schedules for the troops.

Vhalla braved a glance at the Emperor. His jaw was set and his eyes hadn’t left Aldrik. He saw right through what they were doing, Vhalla was certain of it. They weren’t exactly being subtle.

“... the question remains, do we invest in building weapons of siege or training the soldiers?” One of the other majors slid down a piece of paper that had been marked again and again.

“If she opens the doors to Soricium for us,” Erion retorted with a motion to Vhalla, “then siege weapons seem a waste of time. We should begin preparing for battle.”

Vhalla leaned toward Aldrik, peering at the paper he’d been presented. The prince made no sign of discomfort at her proximity, accommodating her interest. Elecia had finished her brief inspection and had run off somewhere.

“If she opens the palace,” stressed the grizzled major to Vhalla’s right.

“I will open it.” Vhalla was so engrossed in understanding the document that she missed all eyes turning to her in surprise at the confidence in her voice. “Here.” She pointed to the far side of the palace on the diagram. “Why aren’t there any siege weapons here?”

“They sealed off the back entrance with rock and rubble in the third year so, they only need to protect one entrance,” Aldrik explained.

“So then we would enter from here.” She placed a hand on the table to lean over the large piece of parchment. Her index finger swept to the opposite end of the palace.

“The girl can deduce we should go through the working door. Why don’t you leave this to the adults, child?” a mustached Western man sneered.

“We need to move something here.” Vhalla tapped at the back gate, pointedly ignoring him.

“What? Why? They closed off that entrance,” Raylynn commented from across the table.

They all looked at Vhalla like she was stupid. She looked back at them much the same.

“They are called Groundbreakers,” she observed. “Do you think some rubble would stop them from making that entrance usable again in a moment?” The sight of the cliff falling out from under Aldrik’s feet was in her mind again.

“Like the battle of Norin.” She boldly brought her eyes to the Emperor. These men and women would never respect her if she didn’t stop hesitating in showing them what she knew, what she’d learned and studied. She needed to turn book knowledge into something practical, something useable for action. “You charged with only a quarter of the host at the main gate. The rest flanked from behind.”

His eyes studied her coldly, and Vhalla swallowed, hoping she did not mix up her facts.

“No one expected you to come from the sea. You had the advantage and swept them from all sides.” She turned her eyes back to the map below.

“This could be the same, but a little reverse. We are weak on that side, unsuspecting. If we rush in with the main host through here, they run out this old entry, close it back up, split, flank us, and surround us. After that they can pin us in and massacre us at their leisure.” Vhalla took a breath and brought up her eyes. Everyone stared at her. Some wore expressions of shock, one or two appeared upset, Jax was wickedly amused. She turned to Aldrik; he stood with his hands folded across his chest, smirking proudly at his father.

“Would this be within the realm of a Groundbreaker’s abilities?” the Emperor finally asked.

“Oh, completely.” Jax laughed. “Don’t we look dumb for not thinking of it sooner?”

“Then if we move these here ...” someone started.

Vhalla’s head was reeling from the rush of her success that she faded out of the conversation for a few minutes as the majors debated how to reorganize their weaponry most effectively. She regained her focus when the argument became heated.

“Moving a single archer’s wall would take days,” Daniel objected.

“But it makes more sense to keep the trebuchets on the sides. If they retreat out the back it will likely be on foot, and the trebuchets would not be of use anyways,” an opposing major snapped.

“At least they have wheels.” Daniel scratched the back of his neck.

“I could move what you need,” Vhalla contributed suddenly, earning everyone’s attention. “Well, I could try.”

“You? You look like you’d fall over with a broad sword.” The grizzled major to her right gave her an unappreciative appraisal.

Vhalla pursed her lips together. “My magic is my muscle,” she said as confidently as possible.

“You weren’t there, Zerian,” Baldair finally joined in, giving the older man a name. “Vhalla stopped a winter sandstorm in the Western Waste by herself. The woman has power in that petite frame.”

Vhalla blinked. Zerian, the head major behind the Western Campaigns. The man was a legend in his own right.

“And what a frame it is,” Jax snickered under his breath, earning a roll of Aldrik’s eyes.

“Let me try tomorrow,” Vhalla insisted to Major Zerian, more politely. “If I cannot, then we can revisit the matter.” Her use of we seemed to be accepted by the group.

“Excellent. That seems to be resolved.” Aldrik slid the map back toward the opposite end of the table. Vhalla’s heart almost stopped when his eyes caught hers as he straightened. The corner of Aldrik’s mouth tugged upward in the most apparent smile that one could expect from the crown prince. She pressed her lips together and let out a hint of her satisfaction. He turned back to the table, his emotions falling from his face. But Vhalla knew that the people at this table had spent ample time with Aldrik; she doubted even the tiniest display of affection wouldn’t be missed. “What’s next?”

They discussed more about the castle, and each of the majors seemed to have something they wanted Vhalla to explicitly search for during her Projections. She was humble enough to admit to not knowing certain things, but she made sure that she understood before she allowed the conversation to move on. After the second major discussion, she realized that she needed to take her own notes, so Vhalla fished for a scrap of clean paper on the table. Aldrik moved his inkwell and quill toward her, and she nodded in thanks.