“I chose Sabine,” Elodie confirmed. Sabine’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. It made no sense to value one person above the lives of thousands.
“What does that mean for Velle?” she asked, fidgeting with her hair.
“Tal has taken to the Republics,” Elodie said, expression crumpling. “When he returns to Velle, it will be with an army in tow.”
Despite the unfavorable news, a strange peace settled in Sabine’s chest. An altercation with the Second Son had been inevitable from the moment she had identified His prophet. It had only ever been a matter of time. “What is it that he wishes to conquer?”
The queen trembled as she answered: “You.”
It was almost calming to hear her greatest fear spoken aloud. “If that is the case,” the New Maiden said, inhaling the last breath she would take in this time of peace, “we have no alternative but to recruit an army of our own.”
26
After a short night of fitful sleep, Elodie gathered her most trusted advisers in the War Room. Between the unpredictable hostile acts and impending threats from Edgar and the Second Son, it was almost a relief to call the brewing battle what it was.
She pinned up the map of the Republics, pointing out the many places where their borders intersected with Velle’s.
“This is what we’re up against,” the queen said. The ink-darkened outlines of the enemy states loomed above Velle like a rain cloud. “We’re surrounded, which means they can invade from all sides.”
“Do we need to worry about the water?” Artur Anders had come along with Cleo, and although he was the only boy in the room, he did not appear uncomfortable or overwhelmed. On the contrary, he seemed proud to prove his loyalty to Sabine, the way Elodie’s own brother had been proud to demonstrate his betrayal.
Elodie shook her head. “Thankfully, that’s not an option. It would take months for any invaders to make it through the Jvin Channel now that winter is nearly upon us.” Artur looked relieved. Elodie shared his sentiment. She was already out of her depths on land. She could not handle a navy, too.
“There’s truly no army left?” Cleo fretted, picking at a loose thread on her gown’s sleeve.
“We’ll have to recruit our own, Princess,” Silas said.
From across the table, Cleo narrowed her eyes at the Chaplain. “Who are you, again?”
Silas turned to Elodie, a question in her eyes. The queen sighed. She supposed this was as good a time as any for the truth.
“Silas is our aunt,” Elodie said. “Mother’s younger sister, Rowan. The fourth Warnou daughter.”
The room was silent as the group digested the information. Elodie’s sisters reexamined Silas’s face with their mother’s memory in mind. There was a similarity in the eyes, the curve of the nose, and the set of the jaw. Just enough that one might miss it. Just enough to be recognizable once a person knew to look. Cleo squinted at the Chaplain suspiciously. Brianne stared at Silas with a mix of wonder and confusion.
“I apologize for my absence and my disguise,” Silas said, breaking the silence, “but believe me when I say I had my reasons. I am here for you now—to defeat this darkness—and vow to explain everything afterward.”
“If there even is an afterward,” Cleo said ominously.
“Speaking of which”—Elodie clapped her hands to return the group’s attention to the maps—“Velle has no army to mobilize, while the Second Son has conjured a tidal wave of soldiers. How do we fight it?”
The queen stared at the gathered group, all of whom looked uncomfortable.
“Can we fight it?” Katrynn asked eventually.
“Yes,” Sabine said, speaking slowly, as though still formulating her thoughts. “My magic has returned in the form of anger. So long as I am surrounded by those with righteous fury, we have supplies enough to fight.”
“Is there so much rage to harness?” Her brother looked at her with concern. “What’s more, will you be able to control it?”
Artur was surely remembering the hours Sabine had spent grappling with her sadness. But that was before she had been offered the New Maiden’s guidance. Before she knew who—and what—she was.
“Think about Ma,” she said, speaking in terms her brother would understand. “Da gambled away all our money, and although she suffered through it, did she truly believe that what he said or did was right? Or did she believe that her only option was to submit to him?”
“Ma kept secret savings stored behind a loose stone in the hearth,” Artur said, understanding dawning on his face. “She tucked away an extra coin here and there, because if Da didn’t know about it, he couldn’t lose it at the card table.”
“One time, Ma told me that she left him in the Loyalists’ possession a night longer than she needed to, hoping that would scare him straight,” Katrynn admitted. “Didn’t work, but at least he couldn’t incur any additional debt in captivity.”
“Exactly,” Sabine said, looking at the assembled audience. “She resisted every chance she had. Most people have only their faith to trade on. No tithings, no land, no legacy. Some would give up their rights for proximity to power. But many more are like Ma, righteously angry with the meager choices they have, ready to step out of line and resist.”
“I don’t know,” Cleo said, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s a lot of speculation.” Privately, Elodie was inclined to agree.
“Only because you haven’t suffered,” Katrynn said, not unkindly. “You are not used to being hurt or controlled by others; you are not used to barely scraping by. You have not sacrificed daily for the dream of something better, a dream that can be stolen by an ill-fated decision or too much drink. Your provenance makes you secure, and therefore ill-equipped to understand.”
Elodie felt properly chastised, even though she had not been the one to receive the lecture. To Cleo’s credit, she merely nodded and looked at her hands. Elodie was proud of both Cleo and Katrynn. This was the sort of energy—the sort of candor—required to honor the experiences of citizens from all walks of life. They would need to build their underground networks thoughtfully and strategically. Match the right messenger to each district.
“How will we find those willing to join us?” Brianne chimed in.
“We take a page out of the Second Son’s book,” Sabine said. “We put out the call and then let followers come to us.”
“We distribute posters.” Elodie nodded with understanding. “Hang them in every corner of the city and every house of worship. Present the people with another option and let them decide.” It was a first step toward autonomy. Even if her people did not join them, the choice was more than they had ever been offered before.
“Will that be enough?” Artur asked. “No offense, Bet, but does anyone still believe in the New Maiden?”
“Faith can be shaken,” Silas said, “but it is not so easily lost. Sometimes, people simply need a reminder. Need to be forgiven and welcomed back with open arms.”
“We know that there are faithfuls still,” Katrynn added, “in the Lower Banks. Those people would have done anything for you, Bet. We could call on them.”
