“I’m sure you do,” I say, flashing them a reassuring smile. “But we’ve known one another such a short time, I’m afraid you can’t know my best interests yet. You will soon, I’m sure, but you’ll agree that we have no time to waste.”

“We don’t,” Dragonsbane says. “Which is why it hardly makes sense to be tracking down other people when the group I’ve already assembled is more than capable—”

I interrupt, sharpening my words to daggers. “If you’d gone to fetch Blaise and Heron when I first asked you to instead of arguing for argument’s sake, they would already be on their way. Now, would you like to waste more time while the Kalovaxians put together a battalion to wipe us out for good?”

For a painfully long moment, she says nothing, but I can feel the resentment rolling off her in waves. I hold her gaze, her fury stoking my own. I’m dimly aware of a dull burn itching at my fingertips, but I don’t dare break eye contact to look at them. Something about it feels distantly familiar, the way my skin felt after I woke up from my nightmare about Cress. I cross my arms, pressing my fingertips into the sleeves of my tunic, hoping that if I ignore them they will stop burning.

After what feels like an eternity, Dragonsbane turns toward Anders, though every muscle in her body seems to protest it.

“Go get the boys,” she says, voice tight. “And hurry back.”

Anders’s blue eyes dart between us uncertainly before he inclines in a slight bow toward Dragonsbane, then to me. He hurries out the door without another word, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence.

Triumph sings through me and I forget about my burning fingers.

“You’re very unlike your mother,” Dragonsbane says after a moment.

And just like that, the feeling of triumph slips away. The words land like a hard punch to my gut, but they aren’t as painful as the realization that she’s right. Antagonizing those who go against me, twisting their words against them, stubbornly clinging to my way of things—those are not tactics my mother ever used as queen. She charmed and mediated and compromised and gave where she could because she had so much to give.

Another realization washes over me, sending a shudder through my whole body that I try to suppress.

I did not handle that like my mother; I handled it like the Kaiser.

* * *

—

A tense few minutes pass before Anders returns, Blaise and Heron in tow. They both look confused as they enter the increasingly cramped space.

“Finally,” Dragonsbane snaps as they come to stand next to me, flanking me on each side without a word.

They must have pieced together what happened, at least somewhat. They must realize that this meeting was called without them, that Dragonsbane tried to shut them out. Or maybe Blaise is glaring daggers at her for an entirely separate reason. Heron, for his part, doesn’t glare at anyone. His gaze is heavy and solemn but distant. It’s been that way since we came aboard, and I worry Elpis’s death is weighing even heavier on his conscience than it is on mine. After all, it was his job to fetch her after she poisoned the Theyn, to bring her to safety here on the Smoke.

I smile broadly at Dragonsbane. “Now that we’re all here, let’s continue. We’re heading toward the Anglamar ruins in order to launch an attack on the Fire Mine and liberate the slaves there.”

Eriel clears his throat, looking at me with a touch of wariness. “I would recommend against that course of action, Your Majesty,” he says, his voice gruff with an accent I can’t place, making the words sound both melodic and dangerous. “Simply put, coming at the Kalovaxians straight on with as few warriors as we have would be a fool’s errand. They would destroy us with ease, no matter what strategies we employ. We’re simply outmatched for such a task.”

“This is what we agreed on before I accepted your assistance,” I say, glancing from Eriel to Dragonsbane. Again, I feel my temper rising.

“The key,” Anders interjects, “is to get more forces.” The posh edges of his words haven’t quite been erased by years of thievery and piracy.

Blaise gives a derisive snort. “More forces? Why didn’t we think of that? Why didn’t Ampelio, for that matter? It certainly would have saved us a lot of trouble. Oh, wait, we did. No other country will stand up to the Kalovaxians.”

“Not out of the goodness of their hearts they won’t. The rest of the world is too afraid of the Kaiser to help, so we will have to make it worth their while,” Dragonsbane says, her eyes level on me. “And I would imagine the only thing they want from us is something Ampelio wouldn’t have entertained trading for an instant.”

My mouth goes dry. “And what would that be?”

“You,” she says plainly. “More to the point, your hand in marriage.”

“Queens don’t marry,” Heron says, looking flabbergasted at the very notion. I’m grateful for him, since I can’t seem to form any words myself.

“Let’s not pretend this is a normal circumstance, dear,” Dragonsbane says. Heron towers over her by a foot and half at least, but she still makes it sound like she’s talking to a child. “Theo can put her pride aside for the good of her country, I think.”

“It isn’t my pride,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm and hide the panic rising in my chest. “Those men don’t care about me, they just want their own piece of Astrea, and our magic.”

Dragonsbane shrugs as if this is a trivial matter. “If we let the Kalovaxians keep it much longer, there won’t be any magic left. It’s a sacrifice, but a necessary one.”

“That’s easy for you to say, considering you aren’t the one sacrificing anything,” I bite out.

“We don’t know that it’s necessary,” Blaise says before Dragonsbane can reply. “There are other options—”

“Such as?” she asks, arching her eyebrows.

“We haven’t even leveraged the Prinz yet. If we trade him for one of the mines—”

“Unfortunately, intelligence tells us that he’s not exactly the hostage we hoped he would be,” Eriel puts in. “The Kaiser doesn’t want him back. He sees him as a threat and an enemy. We did the Kaiser a favor by taking the Prinz off his hands. He’s already spreading rumors that the Prinz went with you voluntarily, Your Majesty.”

Not far from the truth, I think.

“So we don’t use him as a hostage,” I say, though my voice sounds desperate even to my own ears. “The plan was always to use him as a wedge between his father and the Kalovaxian people. Killing him and framing one of the Kaiser’s guards was meant to cause chaos in the court, but I don’t see why we can’t spin the story of him running away into a similar outcome.”

“The Kaiser will make sure the rest of the court sees him as a traitor,” Blaise says, though he isn’t contradicting me; he’s following my train of thought, giving me an opportunity to solve the problem.

“But the court saw the way S?ren stood against his father at the banquet,” I say. “They’d be fools to take the Kaiser at his word. If there was a way to add some whispers to the cacophony, we could change the story. Make them think S?ren didn’t abandon them, that the Kaiser banished him, maybe. The court heard me accuse the Kaiser of murdering the Kaiserin; they must be whispering about that now as well. It won’t be difficult to turn them against him if we have the right voices to whisper in the right ears.”

Blaise nods slowly before turning back toward Dragonsbane. “Do we?” he asks.

“I have a handful of spies,” she admits cautiously. “But they pass information to me, they don’t interfere at court. It’s the only reason I’ve managed to keep them undiscovered and alive this long.”

I can’t help but think of Elpis, who was safe until I asked her to interfere. I see her charred body being dragged out of the throne room, unrecognizable. I hear her screams of pain in her last moments. I swallow, hating myself even as I say the words I need to.

“The time for staying safe has passed. If we don’t take the chances we can, all we’ll do is survive by the skin of our teeth. I want more than that for Astrea, and you should as well.”

Dragonsbane’s jaw clenches.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll start spreading your whispers, as you call them, but it still leaves us unevenly matched for a battle at the Fire Mine. Eriel tells me it will take four days to reach Sta’Crivero.”

Eriel, who has been listening intently to the conversation while rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet like an impatient child, looks surprised to hear his name, though he quickly nods.

“In Sta’Crivero, we will meet with King Etristo,” Dragonsbane continues.

It takes a second for me to understand where this is heading. “I’m not marrying this King Etristo,” I say, hardening each word, as if the issue were simply a matter of her hearing me.