Chapter 3

The new palace in Amari wasn't home, but it would be when all the fighting was over. It felt a bit like a prison at the moment, reminding Eimarille of her younger years spent in the Daijal court beneath Bernard's control before she extricated herself from his ambition. She'd carved out a space for herself and her son in that country, but returning to Ashion with the intention of staying came with a surprising amount of wistfulness for a childhood lost to her.

Standing on the balcony of her suite, soft robe wrapped around her, Eimarille stared up at the fading stars in the sky, picking out the constellations with long practice before the dawn chased them away. The Eagle constellation was on the rise, the season of the Dusk Star upon them. Where the scent of autumn would linger on the breeze in any other year, presently, it smelled strongly of smoke.

The war was coming to Amari's gates, and as much as Kote wished she'd leave the Ashionen capital, Eimarille had chosen to remain. Much of the population in the city had been trapped inside its walls since last year when she'd hobbled the Ashionen parliament and sought to break the Clockwork Brigade. People weren't starving—supplies were never withheld—but the loyalty of those who called the capital home had always been in doubt. She'd sought to limit the damage they could do, but she wondered if it had been enough.

"Such bitter thoughts for a fine morning."

Eimarille tightened her grip around the railing, staying where she was as Innes stepped onto the balcony from the bedroom, where Terilyn still slept. "The Ashion army and its allies are half a day's fight from the city. There is nothing fine about that, my lord."

The enemy had been carving trenches of their own to meet the ones around Amari, and it wouldn't be long until the fighting escalated.

The Twilight Star came to stand beside her, gazing at the dark gardens of the palace, the layout different from the one she'd run through in the old palace before it burned. She wondered what Innes saw, if he never noticed the changes in the world he'd walked for Ages.

"I promised you a crown, and you have it," Innes said with a gentleness that almost made Eimarille flinch.

"And the starfire throne?"

"My wife is, perhaps, unforgiving in that aspect. I chose you, and she chose another."

Eimarille turned her head to stare at Innes. "But you saved me from the Inferno so that I could return and claim what was rightfully mine."

"And Aaralyn took offense to my decision to do so. Hence this war."

Past the palace walls, in a public park for all to see and ever burning, was the starfire throne. It sat in the remnants of the old palace's throne room, a visual statement of the country's defiance, something Eimarille had tried for years to—if not snuff out—at least gain the loyalty of her people.

"If I went there now and put out the North Star's decree? What then?"

"Is that doubt I hear in your voice, child?" Innes finally deigned to look at her, his eyes eerily bright in the dark, as if starfire was eating him up from the inside. "You know what I think of doubt."

"This is my road, the one you gave me. I have walked it proudly."

But she hadn't yet gone to the starfire throne and attempted to sit in it, to put out the starfire that had burned to ash those who had tried. The North Star was not her guiding star, and she could not be certain her bloodline—written as it was in the royal genealogy—would be enough to put out the decree. Knowing Caris and Alasandair were out there, fighting against her, was enough to make her doubt, and she hated them for that.

"You must do what is right for Maricol. I have guided you here, but like all my children, you must decide to take your next step," Innes said.

Eimarille firmed her jaw, refusing to look away from his strange and otherworldly stare. "I will be queen, as is my right, and my son will rule after me."

Innes smiled, lifting a gloved hand to settle it on her shoulder in a manner she'd found comforting as a child, but which left her feeling chilled now. "Then do not let them win."

Kote hadn't wanted her to come to Amari, cognizant of the threat that came from the front line being pushed west. Despite her attacks on E'ridia and Solaria, those two countries had still allied themselves with Ashion. Their specific strengths on the land and in the air had been overwhelming the Daijalan army. Now, with battalions sent west to hold New Haven against an invasion, her forces here were weaker.

They were prepared for a siege and bombing runs. The safe rooms below the palace had all been set up before she even landed in Amari, and Lisandro would play in a suite of rooms there today as he had yesterday. The palace in the civic center of the capital would be a target her enemies would be unable to resist, but Eimarille refused to flee like she'd been forced to as a child.

Whatever Innes saw in her face, in her eyes, made him nod. Then he let her go and retreated back into the bedroom. Eimarille knew if she followed him, he would not be there, so she stayed where she was for a while longer, only moving when Terilyn pressed up against her, familiar arms winding around her waist. A pointed chin rested on her shoulder, quiet breathing a soft sound in her ear. Neither spoke as they watched the sunrise, pink spreading through the gray as golden rays broke the horizon.

"Bring me the Dhemlans," Eimarille said softly.

"Of course," Terilyn replied. She pressed a kiss against Eimarille's neck, her lips cool and dry, before slipping away to see to the request.

Eimarille stayed there for a little longer before finally heading inside, where it was warmer, and servants had prepared a bath for her. She washed and was dressed afterward in a deep blue gown with a high neck and long sleeves, the incorporated cape falling gently around her shoulders and upper arms to the floor. She requested and was brought her crown, which she placed on her head with sure hands, the gold and diamonds glittering in the gas lamp light.

She held court in the morning in a throne room that was more subdued than the one she'd left behind in New Haven. The courtiers were nervous, hiding their fear behind silk fans and strained smiles. Eimarille remained serene in the face of their skittishness, projecting a quiet strength that did little to calm everyone. Only when she saw Terilyn quietly enter the throne room did Eimarille call for everyone's attention.

Eimarille watched from the gilded throne as Terilyn led the shackled Dhemlans into the throne room, her Blade dressed in unremarkable trousers and day jacket, her hair secured in a knot with plain pins. Terilyn had dressed for the task at hand, and when she pushed the baron and his wife to their knees before her, Eimarille rather thought the pair knew what that task was.

Baron Emmitt Dhemlan and Baroness Portia Dhemlan were thinner than they had been when Eimarille last saw them in Istal. Their drab clothes hung badly on their frames, cheeks hollowed out from stress and poor rations. Criminals weren't entitled to comfort, and they'd had little of it since their capture last year. Despite their predicament, they still raised their chins to her with defiance in their tired eyes.

"You were tried by a jury of your peers and found guilty," Eimarille said, not needing to project her voice to fill the throne room. The courtiers surrounding them were all deathly silent.

"A farce of a trial. Everyone knows it was a lie," Portia said tremulously.

The broadsheets had extensively covered the trial for the handful of days it'd been ongoing in the courtroom. It hadn't been enough to lure their daughter to Amari, but now it didn't matter. "You were still found guilty, and it's past time for your sentencing."

Before she'd even finished speaking, Terilyn was already slitting their throats. Emmitt died first, Terilyn's dagger flashing in her hand as she drew it across his throat with a sureness that spilled blood all down his front and over the marble floor. Portia let out a strangled cry full of grief before her voice was taken from her, along with her life. She struggled, because the dying always did, but Terilyn's dagger kissed her throat as it had her husband's.

Eimarille watched them bleed out at the foot of her throne, the pool of blood steadily growing around where they lay. It didn't take long before they stopped moving, eyes going distant and sightless. Terilyn spent that time cleaning her dagger. "What would you like done with them?"

Eimarille stood and stepped down from the dais, careful to steer clear of the blood, as the courtiers bowed or curtsied to her on shaking legs. "Deliver the bodies to the death-defying machine. I'll want them ready to greet their daughter when she arrives."

There was no doubt Caris would find her way inside Amari. When she did, Eimarille would show her the cost of defiance.