Chapter 1

Haighmoor was a city in a western province of Ashion that lacked the cheerful color of New Haven in its buildings. Its layout was filled with dreary streets surrounded by multiple city walls. Once known for its military school and the location of the commanding officers of Ashion's army, it had slowly been picked apart by policy, the troop numbers wound down to a weak force the Ashion parliament had been pleased with.

Except the army hadn't really lost its ranks, even if they'd lost the city. The battalions once thought broken up had merely been transported to the eastern provinces of Ashion in secret under the auspices of the military leaders whose loyalty was still to the old queen. They'd willingly let the politicians in two countries believe the army had been practically disbanded when, in fact, its force had remained intact, waiting to be called to the battlefield again.

Queen Eimarille Rourke thought the Ashion army was digging its own grave in a misguided attempt to rally behind an imposter. The bodies that fell in the poison fields were useful, though, even if they had to be transported to the field locations where the death-defying machines were positioned. Still, even with thousands of revenants to help aid their advance, the Daijal army had yet to break through the front line stretching from Urova down to Solaria east of Amari.

"The winter weather made advancing difficult, but our forces are in a better position now for a frontal assault. We can deploy our war airships with better accuracy and less risk to the crews," High General Kote Akina said.

He stood at strict attention in the receiving room of the Beltre bloodline's ancestral estate. The family's name had been written into the nobility genealogies generations ago, a well-regarded and old bloodline whose political power had never quite been able to rival the Auclair bloodline's over the years. Since the Inferno, they'd been partial to Daijal propaganda, putting them at odds with half the citizens of Haighmoor. Many of the citizens who favored Daijal over Ashion had filled the streets to greet her arrival yesterday with screaming fanfare.

Eimarille looked up from the map spread across the low table, its markings showing their troops' positions and the always shifting front lines that didn't match up with the dash marks delineating the interior province borders of Ashion. It had fluctuated over winter, the Ashion army providing a rather spirited defense of their provinces with the aid of wardens and bad weather.

The lack of wardens in Daijal and western Ashion was another detail hampering their push forward. While her army could create revenants, controlling them was impossible. The high numbers were becoming an issue in Daijal, with complaints being sent to New Haven about trade being disrupted because of unsafe roads, and the cost of transportation by airship was rising. Eimarille's representatives were quick to say the risk and associated costs would ease once the war was over and won, but that excuse wouldn't be acceptable forever.

"Targeting Cosian should be a priority," Eimarille said.

"We sent a squadron after unloading another revenant horde for a bomb drop. Reports coming back from behind the enemy line indicated some of the airships were forced back on the flight over by Ashion airships and aeroplanes. Those of ours that did make it to Cosian were faced with upgraded ground-to-air defenses."

"Were they successful in their attempted bombardment?"

"Some, not all."

Eimarille curled her hands together over her knees, the heavy skirt of her deep blue ball gown falling in layers around her legs. She was here with Kote for an in-person update on the war, though it was running longer than she'd anticipated. She risked the evening's schedule being delayed since the welcoming ball to tout the province's support for Daijal and their queen wouldn't truly start until Eimarille joined the revelry in the estate's ballroom.

"And the revenants?"

"Poison grenades eventually eradicated them."

"Warden-make?"

"Yes, Your Royal Majesty."

Eimarille frowned at the map before looking at Kote. The high general wore his formal uniform with all its gold medals, braid, and ranking pins on display. The white peaked cap was tucked under one arm, his gloved fist pressed against his torso as he stood before her, delivering news she didn't like and for which his orders were responsible.

The former king—long since burned by starfire—would have taken Kote to task for what Bernard would have seen as a failure. Bernard had never been one to see the big picture—truly, he had never even known about the ways Eimarille had worked to undermine his rule as his ward. That had been to her advantage. He'd thought her weak, despite the favor granted to her by the Twilight Star and the protection that came with it.

Innes had guided Eimarille down her road since she was a child taken from Amari as the Inferno burned away everything she once knew. Every step forward had brought her closer to the starfire throne and the decree still burning on that symbol of power. As much as she wanted to fly to Amari and claim what was rightfully hers, she could not do so until her younger brother and sister were dead.

If the only Rourke left alive was herself, then the North Star would have no choice but to let Eimarille take the throne, crown, and country that were, by right, always meant to be hers.

"Send another bombing run," Eimarille said.

Kote inclined his head. "That can be done."

"Good. I trust your skill in the battlefield and know this setback will not remain for long."

Kote nodded sharply, all stiff shoulders and resolute expression. He'd ever been her staunchest supporter in the Daijal military, never hesitating in executing her orders over the years, both in secret and publicly after she was crowned queen of Daijal.

"The rebellion doesn't have the production capacity to keep up with ours. We believe they won't last through the end of the year, not with our war machines in the field. My understanding is that Solaria and E'ridia still have not agreed to an alliance with them. Solaria's Legion has not crossed our southern border, and E'ridia's air force remains behind the Eastern Spine."

"What of the contested land in the south?"

"We are holding that line. Our war machines are a match when it comes to the Legion's. The vasilyet around Bellingham remains in our control."

Emperor Vanya Sa'Liandel, of the House of Sa'Liandel, still ruled Solaria, but his claim to the Imperial throne was tenuous at best despite the Dawn Star's blessing. The Conclave of the Houses had ended with the Imperial palace burned to the ground and a vasilyet seceding from Solaria. The emperor refused to accept the secession, and the fighting along that border was particularly intense, even now. Still, holding that vasilyet was necessary to divide and conquer. Whatever support Kote deemed the southern fighting required, Eimarille would approve it.

The sound of the knob turning had Eimarille looking over at the gilded door as it opened. A familiar and well-loved figure stepped into the room, carrying Eimarille's whole world in her arms. Terilyn smiled at Eimarille as she crossed the room, Lisandro propped on one hip despite Eimarille's five-year-old son being more than capable of walking. Her Blade spoiled him so, and Eimarille could not fault her lover's habits in that regard. If she had her way, she'd give her son the world.

"Mama!" Lisandro said excitedly, wriggling in Terilyn's arms. She bent to set him down on the floor, and the boy immediately ran to her. "Terishka said you are going to a ball. I want to come."

Eimarille reached for her son, scooping him up into her lap with practiced ease. He was dressed in the soft sleeping gown and slippers that he wore when playing in the nursery before bed. She smoothed back his blond hair before kissing his forehead. "My darling, I would love to have you escort me, but you know your bedtime is soon."

He pouted at her but giggled when she tickled his stomach. His bright laughter was a sound she always wanted to hear, and Eimarille wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Lisandro had always been hers more than he'd ever been Wesley's. She'd raised him as a Rourke rather than an Iverson, whispering about the world she was going to give him. Despite Wesley being dead, Lisandro never asked for his father, not how he asked for Terilyn when the Blade was absent from his life.

Eimarille hadn't been willing to risk leaving him behind in New Haven, not with the ongoing war. Daijal's capital might be far from the front lines, but it had an ocean to think of. The Daijal navy had patrols in the Gulf of Helia, aided by Urovan submersibles. For now, their presence was for defensive purposes only.

Eimarille rested her chin on Lisandro's head, smiling at Terilyn as the other woman sat beside her on the sofa. Terilyn wore a ball gown similar to Eimarille's, but the skirt had been tailored with the ability to be discarded with a firm tug at several lace points. Eimarille knew that other design changes had been incorporated to make it easier for Terilyn to reach the wealth of weapons hidden beneath her clothes that she never went without.

Her long black hair was pinned back and twisted into a bun, the metal hair sticks piercing it decorated with diamonds and the hidden blades sharp enough to slit a throat. Eimarille had gifted them to her during the new year festivities, and Terilyn had bloodied them a dozen times over since then.

"Lady Beltre is asking after you. I informed her you were delayed but would be out shortly," Terilyn said.

"We're finished here for the moment," Eimarille said.

Kote put his cap back on. "I can escort you both to the ballroom."

"The nursemaid is waiting outside to take Lisandro back to the nursery," Terilyn said.

Of course, her son protested that, begging to join her. Eimarille hushed his pleading with a touch of her fingers to his cheek and a gentle tsking of her tongue. "None of that now, my darling boy. A prince doesn't beg."

Lisandro pouted but allowed her to hold him close as she stood. "Yes, Mama."

She carried him to the door, which Terilyn opened for her. The nursemaid out in the hall dipped into a deep curtsy, head bowed. "I'll take the prince, Your Royal Majesty."

Eimarille handed her son over to the nursemaid, glancing at the pair of guards who must have escorted Terilyn to the receiving room. From a distance, she could hear the muffled music from the live orchestra quartet and the faint murmur that signified many voices. The ball tonight was one of the first of the season and not to be missed with Eimarille in attendance. That meant many people she would never trust being within reach of her son, but the guards watching over Lisandro had come with her from Daijal. Their loyalty wasn't in doubt—it was everyone else's she would always worry about.

"We'll keep watch, Your Royal Majesty," the lieutenant assured her after snapping off a salute.

"See that you do," Eimarille said.

She watched them leave with her son, never turning away until they were out of sight. Terilyn brushed her hand against Eimarille's, her fingers cool. "He'll have a Blade with him tonight."

Eimarille grasped Terilyn's fingers and lifted her hand, brushing a kiss over scarred knuckles before letting go. "Thank you, my darling."

She turned toward Kote, who bowed and gestured for her to go ahead of him. "After you, Your Royal Majesty."

Eimarille reached up to adjust the weight of her crown one last time before walking past him toward the revelry happening elsewhere in the estate. Terilyn settled to her right and one step behind while Kote took up position on her left. The royal guards on duty in this wing all snapped to attention as she passed, making her way to the staircase that led to the main foyer and hallway.

Guests mingled in that space, their jewelry glittering beneath the gas lamp light from the grand chandelier. The Lord and Lady Beltre waited in the foyer, chatting with a handful of guests. Their chamberlain saw her first, attention riveted on the stairs. He immediately came to attention, voice rising over the chatter with a clear and deep projection. "Announcing the arrival of Her Royal Majesty Queen Eimarille Rourke."

The crowd shifted, pulling back. Heads turned to catch a glimpse of Eimarille as she descended. Men bowed, women curtsied, as was expected of them. She extended her hand to Lady Ximena Beltre, who took it and curtsied deeply. "It is our greatest honor to have you as our guest, Your Royal Majesty."

"A pleasure as always to be back in Ashion," Eimarille said with a winning smile.

Ximena straightened, the corners of her brown eyes creasing slightly when she smiled. She was a little older than Eimarille, dressed in a gown that was at least two seasons behind in fashion, though the rest of the guests seemed to have followed their lady's lead rather than Eimarille's. The gold, diamond, and pearl tiara she wore shone against the dark chestnut of her curled updo. She looked radiant but couldn't hope to outshine Eimarille.

Her husband, Felipe, was five years her senior and had married into her bloodline. Tonight, he wore a fashionable evening suit, shined black shoes, and white gloves. His cravat was neatly done, the pale peach color a match to his wife's ball gown. Felipe had been gone from the city and only just arrived in time for the ball. Ximena had offered her sincere apologies yesterday for his absence, but he was here now and playing a game Eimarille was a master at.

"You grace us with your presence, my queen," Felipe said.

Eimarille smiled at the praise before gesturing at the two with her. "My companions for the evening, the Lady Terilyn and our guest of honor, High General Kote Akina."

Ximena greeted the pair smoothly. If Felipe hesitated a split second before turning his smile on Terilyn, one could forgive the man. Eimarille well knew the rumors that followed in Terilyn's wake and had since they were children. Blades were trained and deployed out of Daijal, adhering to a secretive branch of the Star Order that existed in that country. Some people called them zealots; others labeled them assassins. Both would be right.

"Lady Terilyn," Felipe said while his wife greeted Kote.

Terilyn's smile was cool and polite, though she said nothing, ever Eimarille's silent shadow. She'd never quite lost her Urovan accent and been horribly teased for it in the Daijal court before Eimarille had consolidated enough social and political clout to make people think twice about letting insults leave their lips. These days, Terilyn's silence heard much around her, and she always had such interesting things to say after evenings like this.

Eimarille glided down the receiving line that extended into the hallway leading to the ballroom, Ximena facilitating every introduction. Eimarille committed faces and names to memory, noted those whose smiles never reached their eyes and those who looked at her as if she were their savior. When she finally swept into the ballroom, it was to a flare of music from the quartet orchestra and a round of applause that lasted over a minute.

When the applause died down and the last musical notes faded away, Eimarille greeted those gathered before her with a dazzling smile. "I am here tonight to celebrate the efforts of the Daijal army fighting against the rebellion entrenched in the eastern provinces and, most importantly for all of you, keeping the revenants at bay from Haighmoor's city walls. High General Kote Akina continues to lead with exceptional skill, and I am pleased with his efforts of leading us toward the reunification of our countries."

Eimarille turned toward Kote with a smile, leading the applause for his war efforts. He came to attention and saluted her, looking nowhere else. "I live to serve you, my queen."

"You do it so well, High General. With your steady hand, we'll take the eastern provinces before the year is up." More applause followed her words, and she turned her attention to Ximena. "And to our gracious host, for opening up your home on this grand night, I thank you."

Ximena curtsied smoothly, the skirt of her gown fluttering around her. "No thanks is ever needed for you to grace our home, Your Royal Majesty."

Eimarille smiled at that and took Felipe's hand for a waltz when he approached. The music picked up, and she let herself be spun around the quaint ballroom, the pair of them the center of everyone's attention. That focus never wavered from her as the night went on. Eimarille danced with no other, despite the men and one blushing young woman who asked.

She drifted through the conversation circles instead, sipping from the wineglass Terilyn had fetched for her. The servants discreetly sliding through the crowds with their silver platters of finger food always attended her. Eimarille enjoyed several bites to help soak up the wine, letting herself and Kote be drawn into conversations about the war efforts with various people inside the ballroom.

The clock on the wall ticked later and later, until it chimed an hour tone, calling for everyone to end the festivities in the garden. Ximena found her again, holding on to Felipe's arm, and the pair escorted Eimarille outside.

"We thought to celebrate our queen with a fireworks show," Ximena said.

Around them, guests received glasses of sweet wine or brandy from the servants, chattering about what was to come. Eimarille kept her eyes on the night sky with its blanket of stars scattered across that inky black. "I'm flattered you think of me with such kindness when your husband does not."

Ximena froze, thin brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean. The Beltre bloodline favors Daijal and believes in the road you are building."

"Yes, but your husband is not of your bloodline, and I've decided his betrayal is his own." Eimarille dropped her gaze from the sky and turned her head to look at where Felipe stood rigidly beside his wife. In the gas lamp light that brightened the courtyard, backlit by the glow spilling out of the ballroom doors, Felipe appeared washed out to a sickly white. "Is that not correct, my dear little cog?"

Ximena stared at her husband with a sort of disbelieving horror in her eyes. In the low light, Eimarille couldn't tell if it stemmed from Felipe's betrayal or the impending loss—whether she knew it or not—that she was about to endure.

"I don't know what you speak of," Felipe said, his voice quiet and tight.

Eimarille arched an eyebrow. "Don't you? All these trips you take under the guise of business have you assisting the Clockwork Brigade in secret meetings. Come now, did you think your chain would remain intact forever?"

"I am no cog."

It was the worst thing to be with Daijal's occupation and propaganda spreading through Ashion. The Clockwork Brigade had spent decades working to undermine Daijal's permissive use of debt bondage and debt slaves. People who tried for a better life mortgaged their own with banks, and if they couldn't pay, their indentured servitude became the price owed.

Eimarille had allowed many debt slaves to be fed to the death-defying machines in the lead-up to crossing the central border between Daijal and Ashion. Debt collectors had worked overtime to fill that need, but many more debt slaves still existed in Daijal in their original capacity, toiling away under banking contracts that would never be fulfilled. The bank numbers tattooed on their necks marked them forever.

Despite his betrayal, Felipe would never receive one.

"I've been breaking chains for quite some time," Eimarille said, her words heard by only their small circle as the fireworks erupted overhead. "I'm not cruel, you must understand that. I do what I do for the sake of two countries that should have never split. The Clockwork Brigade has always stood in the way of that."

"Felipe," Ximena begged, reaching for him. "My dear, tell me you didn't. You risked our children?—"

"Your children will be fine," Eimarille interrupted. "I could no more harm them than harm my own son."

Which was true, to an extent. The Beltre children were young, barely older than Lisandro, incapable of being indoctrinated by their father and assisting the Clockwork Brigade. If they'd been older, if Eimarille had records of them traveling with Felipe, then things would be different. Ximena could forgive Eimarille the execution of her husband but not her children, and Eimarille still had use for the highest-ranking noble lady in Haighmoor.

Which was why Terilyn silently appeared behind Felipe and not Ximena, one slim hand gripping his hair and forcing his head back. The slender stiletto in Terilyn's other hand flashed in the gas lamp light as the Blade carved a red line through the man's cravat and throat from ear to ear. Blood poured out of the wound, and Felipe jerked his hands to his throat, eyes wide in agonized disbelief as blood bubbled at his lips.

His dark suit hid the sickly crimson of his lifeblood as it flowed from his neck. Felipe staggered toward his wife, white-gloved hands drenched in blood, reaching for her, but Ximena stepped back, her expression twisting with grief and regret, voice aching from it. "Oh, Felipe. My love, you chose the wrong road."

The guests nearest them finally realized something was wrong when Felipe's knees hit the cobblestone courtyard, hands scrabbling at his ruined throat. Eimarille took a half step back, twitching the skirt of her gown away from the pool of blood growing on the ground. Loud gasps echoed in the air, drowning out the booms from the fireworks. More attention was turned toward the death of a lord than the celebration of war.

Terilyn glided around Felipe's body, her stiletto nowhere in sight, and came to stand next to Eimarille. Ximena's eyes shone with a wetness she couldn't hide as she lifted her gaze to Eimarille. "I swear, I had no knowledge of his betrayal, my queen."

"I know you didn't," Eimarille said soothingly. "If you had, I would know, and you would have shared your husband's funeral shroud."

Ximena flinched at that, hands fisted at her side, but her eyes held no hatred as they stared at Eimarille. "I don't want the children to see."

"Kote will coordinate the body being taken to the crematorium. You'd do well to summon a star priest in the morning and strike your former husband's name from the nobility genealogies."

Ximena nodded, still in shock but willing to do whatever Eimarille wanted in order to keep what remained of her family alive and her bloodline intact.

Eimarille stepped around the body bleeding out on the cobblestones and extended her hand to Ximena. She jerked her gaze away from her husband's lifeless form and automatically reached for Eimarille's hand, ever the lady and gracious hostess. "My queen."

"Come, Lady Ximena Beltre. We'll adjourn to your private study so I may explain why I favored your loyalty over a traitor's. You must understand that cogs have no place in this world, no matter their bloodline."

Ximena swallowed, the peach silk of her gown no longer a match for a bloodstained cravat. But she was alive, and like anyone who knew how close they'd come to death, Ximena was willing to never look back at the body of the man she'd loved and married and raised children with because his road had ended and hers still yet needed to be walked.