Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(108)

S?ren pulls the horse to a halt atop a sand dune that overlooks the camp, and we linger there, watching the fight unfold below us. A mere half-dozen guards rush toward the wall from their barracks nearby. Artemisia makes quick work of one of them, even though he wields two swords to her single blade. First she knocks one from his hand, but when he insists on keeping hold of the other, she responds by cutting off that hand in its entirety.

I tear my gaze away, though the man’s screams carry up to our perch.

“It’ll be over quickly—the guards are outmatched,” S?ren tells me, dismounting and helping me down after him.

I nod. “They were here to keep the refugees inside the walls,” I say. “They were charged with keeping thousands of unarmed people in a pen—little more than shepherds, really. They never dreamed anyone would want to attack from the outside.”

S?ren glances at me, and he must see my discomfort when another of our warriors runs a blade through a guard’s stomach, cutting straight through to the other side.

“You don’t have to watch,” he says. “I can tell you when it’s done.”

For a moment, I consider staying to watch. I ordered this, after all—even if I’m not down there in the thick of it, all of this blood is still on my hands. The least I can do is bear witness to it. But as S?ren said, the battle will be over quickly and there are still more preparations to be made.

“Thank you,” I tell S?ren, walking around to the other side of the horse and shedding my cloak. I smooth my crimson gown, but that does little to help the dirt and wrinkles it’s accumulated from the ride. It’ll have to do.

S?ren glances back at me with raised eyebrows.

“I didn’t realize we were going to a ball. It would have been more practical to ride in trousers.”

“Artemisia said I need to be aware of the image I’m presenting,” I tell him. “I need them to follow me, and they’re more likely to follow someone who looks like a queen than they are a dirty street rat.”

S?ren snorts. “Are those her words?”

I shrug. “She has a point,” I say. “They already see me as a child with no idea what I’m doing.”

His eyes linger on mine for a moment, even as another scream pierces the air.

“I don’t know that it has much to do with the dress,” he tells me. “Maybe it does make you look more regal, but that won’t make them follow you.”

My stomach sinks. “Then what will?” I ask him.

He shrugs, eyes dropping away from mine as he turns back to the camp. “You don’t need to look like a queen—you already are one. Show them the girl who was brilliant enough to escape from under the Kaiser’s nose, who’s fierce enough to protect her people with her life, who’s strong enough to stand on her own two feet, even with the weight of the world on her shoulders. You are a queen, Theo, and they would be mad not to follow you.”

He doesn’t look at me as he says it, and I’m grateful for that. He doesn’t see what the words do to me, how they cause heat to rise to my cheeks. After a moment, I walk toward him and straighten up. The guards all lie in the sand, dead or disarmed, and it is time to see if S?ren is right.





BY THE TIME S?REN AND I make our way to the entrance, the others are waiting. Amid the bodies of the guards, Heron and Artemisia stand together with their bloody swords still drawn. Dragonsbane is there, too, which surprises me. I thought she’d stay on the ship and out of what she thought was a foolish plan, but here she is. She looks my way when we approach, her eyes narrowing slightly. Though fury still burns through me when I think of her offering Etristo the Water Mine, I force myself to nod my thanks. We couldn’t have gotten this far without her help.

I walk toward Heron and Artemisia. It’s only been a few hours since I saw them last, but part of me wants to embrace both of them. The blood staining their clothes and skin is the only thing that holds me back.

“Well done,” I say instead. “What happened back in the harbor? Did you get enough ships?”

Artemisia nods. “Plenty,” she says. “Food, weapons, all of it. My mother is still a bit begrudging about the whole thing, but her crew is much more enthusiastic—I think more than a few of them might join us at the mine.”

I smile. “That’s wonderful,” I say. “And Blaise?”

“We sent him ahead of us to meet with the Elders,” Artemisia explains. “He took them your offer so that everyone could think it over and would be ready to go by the time we got here.”

I nod, swallowing down my nerves. “Let’s get them onto the ships, then. We can sort out who wants to fight and who doesn’t once everyone is safe.”



* * *



—

When Heron and one of Dragonsbane’s men push open the door, I see that the entire camp has already gathered in the streets, huddling together, clutching loved ones tightly to them, with all their worldly possessions clutched to their chests in meager bundles.

Even when I walk in with my Shadows at my back and Dragonsbane and her warriors behind them, none of the refugees appears terribly reassured. They came here for safety, after all, and now I am bringing war to their door.

But they aren’t safe here.

I watch as Elders guide them into a line that files past us and out of the camp that has been their only home for years. Decades, in most cases. I feel their eyes on me as they pass, and I stand up a little straighter, square my shoulders a little more. I try to look like a queen before I remember what S?ren said—there is no such thing as looking like a queen.