Page 29 of Rise of the Vicious Princess

The ladies Whitecross and Ollen walked in soon after, their bold dresses, one in apricot and one in sunset orange, giving the impression that they were two sides of the same flame. Lady Whitecross’s bold sapphire necklace glowed against her brown skin, and Lady Ollen wore a trio of ostentatious rings on her pale hands to complement her outfit. Both ladies advocated fiercely for Calera to invade Montevallo, raiding and pillaging until there was nothing left of the mountain kingdom but ash and regret.

The last pair to enter the room was Admiral Peyton, her high cheekbones and golden skin reminding Charis of Nalani, and Lord Jamison Thorsby, the head of the council, his black curls perfectly positioned, his blue cravat tied just so, and a matching blue handkerchief in his hand to dab at the gleam of sweat on his dark brow.

Mimicking her mother’s sword-straight posture and cold expression, Charis nodded a greeting to each council member and then went straight to the heart of the issue.

“General Thane left this morning to assess the situation in Irridusk,” she said. “All of you received the information we have at present. The farming town was attacked in the middle of the night. Every building was burned to the ground. Every inhabitant who didn’t manage to run away when the fighting started is dead.”

Her voice was a winter storm, cold and deadly. “We will not waste our breath decrying this monstrosity and raging at its injustice. Instead, we will look closely at Montevallo’s strategy so that we can understand their motives for doing this. And we will formulate a response that will have King Alaric wishing he’d kept his army in the mountains where it belongs.”

“I want it on record that I believe we should invade Montevallo and burn one of their cities,” Lady Whitecross said, her brown eyes glowing with fury.

“So that our soldiers can be picked off one by one with bows and arrows from atop that city’s walls?” Lord Everly’s voice was heavy with scorn. “We’ve tried for years to breach Montevallo’s strongholds and failed every time. They have the high ground. We cannot—”

“We cannot allow the destruction of Irridusk to pass without a response!” Lady Whitecross slapped a hand against the table.

“And we cannot send our troops into the mountains to be slaughtered,” Lady Channing said sternly. “That could be exactly what Montevallo is hoping for.”

“We haven’t sent troops into the mountains since the Balrusk battle twelve years ago,” Lord Thorsby said, still dabbing at his brow with his handkerchief. “Montevallo has continued to encroach on our borders since then, including the terrible attack on the Fynrose outpost that killed so many civilians as well as soldiers. Do we really believe they’d attack a village thinking it would goad us into another invasion?”

Charis studied the map of Calera tacked to the wall across from her. Fynrose, the site of the most brutal battle in the past decade, was far to the north, directly between Montevallo’s border and the port of Ebbington, which King Alaric was so desperate to control. Red slashes marked the spots of other deadly skirmishes. All of them were on or near the line from Montevallo’s northernmost military outpost and Ebbington. All of them were now captured territories that brought King Alaric closer and closer to the port.

Except Irridusk.

Irridusk was in the direct path between Montevallo’s army and the city of Arborlay. If Charis didn’t send a response, swift and brutal, what would stop Alaric from ordering an invasion upon the capital itself?

“This has gone too far.” Lady Ollen’s voice shook with fury. “Women and children were slaughtered. We have to take the battle to them. If we cannot send our soldiers, then we dig a trench to protect our own lands and light the entire mountain on fire.”

“Montevallo is comprised of a host of mountains, Lady Ollen.” Lord Everly sounded annoyed. “Burn one and we might damage a few outposts, maybe flush out a village or two. But we’d have barely affected the majority of their population, and we’d destroy any forest cover we could ever hope to use in an invasion.”

Charis leaned forward, studying the map.

“Then we send in spies to poison their water supply and burn their food storage,” Lady Whitecross said.

“A good idea,” Lady Channing said in her calm voice, “though we have had great difficulty getting spies into their cities since each is surrounded by a high stone wall and manned by guards. How do you propose we get past that?”

Charis frowned. According to the latest information from the north, the bulk of Alaric’s army was stationed near the center of the northern territory, equal distance from Montevallo’s border and the port Alaric wanted to take from Calera. The cities on either side of the army had long since been destroyed. There was nowhere to stage an attack, nowhere to shore up defenses and take the fight to his army. Nothing but ruined cities and . . . her finger traced the distance between the army’s outpost and the northern edge of Calera.

A blaze of furious triumph kindled within her as she turned to the council and cut through their arguments with a single sentence. “I know how to punish Montevallo.”

“How?” Lady Ollen leaned forward, her face eager.

“We’re going to set fires to the east, west, and south of their central outpost, hemming their soldiers in. And we will keep those fires going, keep them spreading north until they reach the outpost, leaving the army no choice but to flee.” Charis slowly looked around the room, meeting each gaze.

“There’s nowhere to run except to the northern cliffs,” Lord Thorsby said, horrified awe in his voice.

“Exactly.” Charis turned back to the map. “We will drive the majority of his army straight into the sea.”

Thirteen

AN HOUR LATER, the plan hammered out and orders sent, Charis decided she would make a trip to the refugee camp that was several hours north, where Irridusk’s few survivors had fled. King Alaric Penbyrn wasn’t the only one who needed to see a swift response from Calera’s ruling family.

She sent a page to the stables to arrange a trio of carriages, another page to Nalani and Holland inviting them to come along, and a set of pages to Lady Channing’s and Lord Everly’s houses to instruct their staff to pack an overnight bag and return it, along with a single staff member, within the hour so the council members could also join the trip. She then sent the head housekeeper on a mission to pack enough food, blankets, and toiletries for everyone.

When at last she reached the privacy of her chambers, she found Tal waiting.

“You’re supposed to be taking the afternoon off.”

“I was.” His eyes found hers. “And then a page arrived at the stables with orders to put together a caravan to a refugee camp. I figured I should come along.”

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