Camille

This wasn’t part of the plan.

That’s the first thought that keeps repeating in my head as the ground trembles faintly beneath my boots.

She called our allies, position them to attack when we were supposed to trade.

Leverage. Information for children. Pressure without bloodshed.

That was the agreement.

That was what I told myself when I agreed to this.

But the scent drifting through the high windows of our hall tells a different story.

Smoke.

Ash.

Distant violence.

I stand in the center of my grandmother’s strategy chamber as she finishes issuing orders to the last of the messengers. The stone walls around us hum with old magic,...