cavalry,” Emilia says. “He would have taken down dozens of queensguard, and drawn their fire. And I think he is your pet, and your friend. And you did the right thing by leaving him.”
Arsinoe blinks at her in surprise.
“Focus.” She slaps Arsinoe’s shoulder as she helps her into light silver armor. “Your whole mind must be in the fight if you are to survive it.”
“My whole mind is on Katharine,” says Arsinoe. “On where she is and where I’ll be.”
“She may start the battle at the head. But do not be surprised if they keep her to the back. It may be difficult to reach her.”
“I don’t care.” She feels the armor tightening, the buckles secured. Part of her wants to shrug it off. It will only slow her down.
Jules slips knives into her boots and belt. She straps a sword across her chest. Watching her, Arsinoe cannot help thinking how she and Katharine are both so small, yet both so fearsome. When she faces Arsinoe, Jules’s blue and green eyes blaze.
Emilia checks a blade and sheaths it hard. “I have to see to the soldiers. I will find you at the horses.”
After she goes, Jules takes up Camden’s armor.
“How in the world am I supposed to get her into this?” she asks, and Camden whaps her tail against the ground. “Arsinoe, will you hold her?”
“Oh no.” Arsinoe steps back. “She’s your familiar; you armor her.”
Jules chuckles. “I helped you with your bear.”
“That was forever ago. My bear’s not here now. And besides, I actually need to go after Emilia. I need to talk to her about something.”
“Emilia? What could you and she have to talk about?”
Arsinoe shrugs and steps through the tent flap. “Something. Just something.”
Outside, the camp has come alive, everyone moving and in a hurry. From the high ground of Jules’s tent, everything is visible, and the rebels appear as a multicolored swarm, disorganized, arguing amongst themselves, but generally moving in the direction of the capital. By contrast, what little bit of Katharine’s army is within view is all uniform black and silver, even most of the horses. And they move together like a school of fish.
For a few moments, Arsinoe wanders, unsure which way Emilia went. But then she hears a familiar shout. Emilia is just down the ridge, scolding a group of soldiers around a burned-down cookfire.
When Arsinoe reaches them, the soldiers scatter, seemingly more eager to face the entire queensguard than to stay and face Emilia.
“Is that wise?” Arsinoe asks. “Yelling at them like that so close to a fight?”
“The coming battle is the only reason I did not have them whipped.” Emilia holds up a spit bearing what appears to be the well-eaten remains of a roasted lamb. “They stole it from a farm we passed. When I warned all to be sure to pay for anything we took. We march as liberators, not thieves!” She tosses the spit into the ash. “They will make enemies for the new crown before it is even on Jules’s forehead.”
“Jules’s forehead? So you mean to put it on her in ink, like Katharine’s?”
Emilia cocks her head. “I don’t often agree with a poisoner, but I do like that. A crown etched in blood. A permanent mark. And less clunky than a circlet or some jewel-encrusted hat. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with Jules?”
“I needed to ask you something. I need to ask you to do something.”
“What?”
“Do you remember how you said you didn’t think Billy should fight?”
Emilia looks away. “I should not have said that. And I did not mean it the way you took it. It is not that I do not think him justified in fighting. But I have seen what the poisoners did to him. I have watched him as he trains and see how his right arm cannot quite stop trembling. Do you want me to hold him back? You should have asked sooner. Now we are preparing to march, and it will not be easy—”
“I don’t want you to keep him back.” Arsinoe bites her lip. “I want you to look after him.”
Emilia blinks like she has misheard.
“Please, Emilia. I’m asking you.”
“I cannot. I will be beside my queen.”
“Jules doesn’t need you. You wanted her to be a warrior . . . and now she is one. But Billy isn’t. And if he faces Rho alone, he’s going to get himself killed.”
Emilia sighs.
“You know we are all likely to die. Yet you want me to worry about one