the Lakelands time to regroup. After all, you were sorely beaten at Archeon, and I imagine your own nobles have been at your mother’s throat over the entire affair. You’ve found opposition in the Rift, not because the Silver nobles are against you, but because they feared and respected my father. He ended up dead on your ship, did he not? What a terrible misunderstanding. Rumors really can get away from us, can’t they? And your own country, the pious, proud, bountiful Lakelands—you are steadily moving into winter. Your harvest is soon. And I suspect there are a great deal of Red workers missing, aren’t there? Who can blame them, when they can simply cross the border to seek a better life for their children?
You are a nymph, Iris. You can read the tides; you can change currents. But this current, this swift course, cannot be changed. Well I know metal, Princess. And I know that any steel that does not bend is fated to break.
If you value your throne, your crown, and your lives, you will consider what can be done to protect all three. Blood equality, new laws, as fast as you can write them, are the only way you survive this—and survive it with some power still in your grasp.
Evangeline Samos of Montfort
While Ptolemus stares, wide-eyed, at his sister’s bold strategy, the world goes hazy around me. A buzzing sounds in my ears, drowning him out as he rereads select pieces of her advice to the Lakelander princess. Evangeline Samos of Montfort. I knew she wouldn’t have the titles any longer, but to hear it, to see that name written so plainly. Of Montfort. She truly has let go of what she was, and—she’s embracing what we can be.
Tears prick my eyes, and her hand tightens in my own.
Evangeline Samos of Montfort.
Elane Haven of Montfort.
“And the abdication letter?” I say thickly, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Her jaw tightens, but she dips her head in acknowledgment. “I’ll read it myself.”
All the tension of the last few days unwinds, and a pressing weight lifts from my shoulders. I almost sigh in relief. Instead I jump to my feet, my robe swirling around me as I head for the closet.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already packed.”
It’s sunset, red and cold, by the time we reach the airfield cut into the slopes of Ascendant. The pines seem to lean in, watching as the four of us clamber out of our transport and onto the tarmac. We are very much behind schedule, but no one seems to mind. Not Ptolemus, not our Montfort pilots and escort, not even Carmadon and Premier Davidson, who have come to see us off. They stand out sharply from their crowd of retainers—Carmadon in his white suit, and the premier with his familiar, inscrutable smile. Neither looks surprised by Evangeline’s presence, as if they knew she would change her mind.
Though Ptolemus will be the first to abdicate and is still the heir to the Rift, he walks behind Evangeline, letting her set our pace. She walks quickly, eager to be done with this already. Though she certainly looks the part of a princess. Her battered training suit has been discarded for black leather leggings, a matching jacket, and a silver cape that ripples like liquid mercury. It could be, for all I know. The rest of us are equally dressed. Ptolemus is in a uniform, with a cape to match Evangeline’s, while Wren wears a gown patterned in red and silver, the colors of House Skonos. I don’t favor my house colors tonight. Instead of black, my dress is pale blue and gold, like clouds at dawn. It sets off my eyes.
Evangeline likes it, and she isn’t trying to hide the sentiment. She glances back at me as we walk, running her eyes over my outfit with eager satisfaction.
Our escort of Montfort guards and diplomats wastes no time boarding the waiting jet, barely acknowledging the premier before disappearing up the steps. Evangeline tries to do the same, sidestepping Carmadon’s outstretched hand, but the premier is a difficult man to ignore. He doesn’t block her path and gives her the chance to avoid him.
She is wise enough not to.
Good, I think, watching as she clasps his arm. She begrudges the action but allows it just the same. The premier is the best ally we have here, and she needs to be civil. Even with his offer of employment hanging over my head.