such enormous spirits was exhausting. But it was done. Her fleet and her war palace were racing out of the bay, carried into the sea by the great current that flowed at her command. There was nothing that could stop her now.
Slowly, she stood and drew her sword, raising its gleaming blade to the fading sunlight. “Are you watching, lady?” she cried, holding her sword to the sky. “With this, I begin your war.”
As she spoke, words appeared on the sword’s blade, a single sentence etched in gleaming steel.
Sleepers wake, I am coming.
Nara held her breath. The rushing wind filled her ears, but if she strained, she could hear the Shepherdess’s beautiful laugh at the very edge of her hearing. That was enough. Smiling, Nara sheathed her sword and walked into her palace.
High overhead, those winds who were not yet loyal turned and rushed west to bring word to their master of the star’s coming.
Duke Finley arrived at his town house shortly after sunset. His servants ran out to greet him as the coach pulled to a stop. Finley stepped down, letting the valets take his overcoat while his footmen ran to close the elegant iron gate that separated the mansion from the street. Henry was waiting for him at the door, a glass of wine ready in his hand.
“Welcome home, father,” he said. “How was your day?”
“What you doing here?” Finley said, snatching the glass with enough force to spill half its contents on the marble entry. “You’re supposed to be heading the palace watch tonight.”
“The captain gave me the night off,” Henry said. “She heard about your meeting with our beloved prince and thought you could use the company.”
“Did she?” Finley downed the wine in one gulp and tossed the glass at his manservant, who caught it expertly. “How thoughtful of our dear princess.”
Henry’s smile wavered as he followed his father into the house. Like all high-ranking Oseran nobility, Duke Finley’s mansion was located in the tangle of fine houses just down the mountain from the palace. But though his house was less than a block from the castle, it was worlds away in style. Where the royal palace was a stalwart relic of a lost era, the duke’s home was impeccably modern. The smooth, austere facade presented a clean face to the street while delicate flourishes of carved waves lapped tastefully at the cornerstones. Inside, wide halls paneled with carved slats of imported wood led to rooms filled with windows. Elegant lamps enhanced with crystals hung from the ceilings, and fine rugs covered the floor with rich colors. The furniture was ornate, painted gold and upholstered in silk in the Zarin style.
But for all this modernity, Finley was still the heir to the throne, and was he guarded accordingly. Because of this, the delicate ambiance of his brightly lit stone foyer was marred by a pair of guards in full armor standing at attention. A second pair of guards, scarred veterans, stood at the top of the grand stair where they perpetually got in the way of the servants. A third pair of guards watched the door to the duke’s small garden, their great armored shapes ridiculous against the outline of the delicate fruit trees. Each post saluted the duke as he passed, and the duke saluted back, muttering to himself the whole way up to his study.
“Honestly,” he growled as Henry closed the leather padded study door. “You’d think we were still an island of savage barbarians murdering each other in our beds.”
“The queen cares deeply for your safety, father,” Henry said. “As do we all.”
“Nonsense,” the duke said, sinking into his cushioned chair by the fire. “Theresa may set the guard, but I’m the one who has to pay for it. And you can stop trying to butter me up with that ‘as do we all’ rot, Henry. You’re not going to be king.”
The dutiful look fell off Henry’s face. “What?” he cried.
“He didn’t take the bait,” the duke said, shrugging. “Josef Liechten is determined to stay and get his mother her grandchild whether she’s alive to enjoy the brat or not. You’d think after abandoning every other shred of duty, this would be easy, but no.”
“What are we going to do?” Henry said, sinking into the chair beside his father’s.
“Nothing,” the duke said and snorted, staring into the fire. “We’re going to sit and we’re going to wait. Even if he got her with child last night, the queen won’t live long enough to confirm the pregnancy. Once the old cow is dead and I’m on the throne, no one will care what’s in the princess’s belly.”
“Father,” Henry said delicately, sitting on the edge of his chair. “Aren’t you dismissing Adela too quickly? She’s very popular with the people. We could use that. I—”
“I am well aware of your shameless infatuation with the princess, Henry,” the duke said dryly. “Now, and I’m not going to tell you this again, forget her. She’s nothing but trash who knows how to play a crowd, just like her mother. If you speak of her again, I’ll pull you off the guard and put you on a deepwater patrol boat for the rest of the year. Do you understand?”
Henry bit his lip. “Yes, father.”
“Good,” the duke said, sitting back. “Powers, the way my luck’s been going, you’ll be the one to get the princess pregnant and lose your throne to your own son.”
“Father!” Henry cried.
“You can’t hide things from me, boy,” Finley said, glaring. “Not that you’ve tried. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m working so hard to secure your place in the succession when you seem intent on ruining your reputation, cornering the princess in hallways in sight of anyone who walks by.”
Henry looked away, cheeks scarlet. “Doesn’t matter, anyway,” he grumbled. “Everyone’s saying we’re done for now that the clingfire’s up in flames.”
Finley sat up. “Who’s saying that?”
“All the guards, for one,” Henry said. “It’s common talk on the docks, and why not? You could see the smoke from the mainland. Everyone knows that we can’t down the palace ships without clingfire, and if the palace ships don’t go down, the Empress wins.”
“A minor setback,” the duke said dismissively. “I’ll have the crown make a statement tomorrow that we have a backup clingfire stock hidden.”
“But we don’t,” Henry said.
“Well, no one needs to know that, do they?” Finley said. “The last thing we need is a panic. If we are to stand before the Empress, we must be united, and we can’t do that if people are scared.”
“You can’t just lie about things like that,” Henry said.
“I can and I have,” Finley said. “How do you think this island’s been functioning for the last month? We’ve been plagued by setbacks since we heard the Empress was on the move. First there was the queen’s dramatic turn for the worse that put everything in uproar and brought back the idiot prince, and then we had that horrid mess with the tar eating through the wood in the new ships. We had to scrap half a fleet of runners thanks to that one. And there was the dry rot in the corn vault.” The duke shook his head. “Trust me, Henry, this fire was nothing. Just another headache in a long line of bad, bad luck.”
Henry stared at his father. “I didn’t hear about any of that.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Finley said. “That’s what it means to keep things secret. Fortunately, we’ve still got time to make up the shortfalls before the Empress arrives. Assuming, of course, nothing else goes wrong.”
Henry paled. “What else can go wrong?”
“Never ask, my boy,” Finley said quietly. “Never ask.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, both lost in their own dark thoughts as they watched the fire burn lower and lower. And then suddenly and without warning, Henry sat bolt upright.
“What was that?” he said. “Did you hear that?”
“No,” the duke grumbled, sinking lower in his chair. “Probably our idiot porter getting into the—”
The sound cut him off before he could finish. It was a soft, rolling thump, followed by a clatter. Finley looked at his son, all tiredness gone, and they stood up together. The duke’s hand dropped down to the old sword at his side as he crept toward the library door.
Just before his hand touched the handle, the door flew open, and a white-faced servant burst into the room.
“My lord!” he whispered, his voice cracking with panic. “You have to get out!”
“Why?” the duke said. “What’s happened?”
The servant looked over his shoulder at the dark hall. “An intruder, sir.”
