20. Irina

Chapter 20

Irina

I sat on a large cushioned chair in the middle of my command tent, staring at a detailed sketch of the mountains bordering Melucia and a map of Grove’s Pass dominating the massive table before me. The hard-packed ground beneath the tent was now covered in a tapestry of colorful rugs. A silver brazier held glowing coals to guard me from winter’s chill.

A day earlier, generals crowded shoulder to shoulder around the table, haggling over movements and plans. The clamor of messengers coming and going was constant.

Today, I sat alone in silence. Just the way I liked it.

A head poked through the flap, disturbing my thoughts.

Danai’s shoulder-length black hair hung limp, a greasy, droopy mess that hadn’t been cared for in days. Dark circles outlined his usually bright eyes as heavy bags dragged the skin beneath them toward the ground. Oddly, his black military-style coat, which flared at the waist into a robe, was spotless. Its golden buttons sparkled in the light.

I rolled my eyes at the man’s obsession with his ridiculous wardrobe. No one had worn a coat or robe of that style in a century, probably longer.

“What is it, Danai? Do not stand there with your head in the door. You will let all the heat out.”

Danai stepped into the tent, stopping a few feet away, bowing deeply. When he looked up, his eyes widened. He scrutinized my form with his critical Mage’s eye.

Since our arrival in Huntcliff, I’d shed my golden dress in favor of leather riding breeches with practical blouses and coats. Most were stylized with gold, maroon, or blue embroidery. Danai had approved of the change, claiming it made me look more in command.

Today, however, I wore a blacker-than-midnight floor-length robe that clung seductively to every curve. My waist was cinched with a silken rope whose golden tasseled ends dangled down my hip. The robe’s collar and cuffs were ringed with bands of gold. At the robe’s center, just below my breasts, a stylized version of the Phoenix glittered.

The seven bloody diamonds of my crown pulsed like beating hearts.

Tongues would definitely wag as I wandered camp.

“Your Majesty is . . . quite something today,” Danai ventured with one brow quirked.

I grinned down at my dress. “Do you like it?”

His eyes roamed my body, and my Gift sensed a deepening lust in his heart.

“So very much,” he said. “But—”

“But?” My brow furrowed.

“It’s . . . it’s more than your dress, Your Majesty.” His voice held a note of awe. “The features of your face have sharpened, and your hair . . .” It now flowed down my back in a long, intricate braid, the tight chignon I’d worn for more than two decades abandoned. “I would swear it holds a tint of crimson that . . . shifts with the light.”

He gulped.

I smiled and could practically feel his pulse quicken. I saw it in his eyes. He wanted me almost as much as I craved vengeance.

“Tell me, Danai. You have an update?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Phase one is complete.”

“Excellent!” I slapped the arm of my chair and stood.

When Danai’s expression didn’t match my own, I stepped forward. “What are you not telling me?”

He hesitated.

“Our men made it to the peaks. In total, they reported over a hundred Rangers killed along the range. We did not lose a single man.” He swallowed. “Our scouts managed to eliminate most of the signal pyres.”

“What do you mean, ‘most,’ Danai?”

“One station was manned by a Ranger Gifted with Fire. He was shot multiple times but managed to send flame into the pyre before he died. Our scouts tried to douse the flames, but as you know, water is useless against a flame lit by magic.”

I leveled an icy glare.

Danai took a step back and shrank before me.

I smiled inwardly at his submission. Fear is such a potent weapon. His cowering reminded me of my demonstration before the Council, of the look on Wilfred’s face as his organs began to burn. The terror in the other men’s eyes was even better.

Let them test my will again and see how they fare.

I stepped to the table and scanned the map. “Which pyre was lit? Show me.”

Danai pointed to a peak on the map.

My fingernails tapped a rapid cadence against the cold wooden table. “There’s nothing we can do about that now. What of our men? How did they fare? Are our Mages in position?”

“Our men are all in position, including the Mages.” He pointed to locations a mile from the edge of the forest around Grove’s Pass. “Mages are here and here. They await your order.”

The moment stretched.

As if in answer to my growing exhilaration, the coals in the brazier burst into flame. My tapping accelerated.

A thousand years of waiting. A thousand years in death’s prison . . .

My voice seared hotter than the blazing coals. “Burn them all . I want the Rangers eliminated and their headquarters reduced to ashes. Make sure the scouts get into position on the east side of the town before the attack begins. No one escapes to warn the Triad.”

Danai did not move.

“What?” I glared up at him.

“Your Majesty, it is flurrying outside. In the mountains, winter snows began in earnest two days ago, and the pass through them is six feet deep in places, likely more by now.” His eyes wandered back to the map. “We can take out Grove’s Pass, but there is no way we will get our armies through the mountains before spring. If we attack now, our men will be trapped on the other side with no reinforcements, nowhere to hide or shelter through winter. They will all die.”

“Sacrificing pawns clears the board.” I returned to my chair. “Taking out the Rangers is more than a strategic objective. It’s a message to the Triad and the people of Melucia.”

He raised a questioning brow.

“Resist, and you will burn.”