“Are we in agreement then?” Aldrik spoke over his father. The table looked between the current and future Emperors in confusion and uncertainty. “That we will prepare to launch an all-out assault of Soricium?”

“I thought that’s why she was brought here to begin with.” Jax nodded at Vhalla. “Not to just tell us where they’re keeping their vegetables.”

“Unsurprisingly, Vhalla’s logic is sound,” Daniel voiced his support.

Vhalla was surprised by the other majors who nodded their heads. She tried to find any who opposed her or who could be the potential spy. She had no luck.

“Zerian,” the Emperor finally spoke, having noticed the appreciative affirmation the grizzled major was giving Vhalla. “You side with her?”

“I do, my lord.”

“You side with a little girl?” the Emperor nearly sputtered.

“I side with the course of action that I feel will best lead you to victory.” Zerian was too old and too tested to fear the Emperor. “We will plan to attack in less than two months’ time,” Aldrik declared. “I see no reason to draw this out to spring.”

Her head darted to Aldrik in surprise. It clicked together, all of it. The puppet master’s plans had come to fruition so effortlessly that no one had seen their invisible hand.

“Agreed,” Baldair voiced his support of his brother. “Excellent.” Aldrik assessed his younger sibling. “Baldair, I trust your guard to begin assessing how we need to mobilize the troops for such an attack.”

The Emperor glared openly at his oldest son. A dangerously bold rift was growing between them. Other majors noticed, and Vhalla was beginning to see them shift with the tides of power, casting their lot in for whoever seemed a better bet long-term. Right now, that was Aldrik. But what if it changed?

“Lady Vhalla, if you will come with me.” Aldrik stepped away from the table. “Your time will be better spent in the fortress learning as much as you can.”

Vhalla nodded in agreement, following behind Aldrik.

“We look forward to your insights again, Lady Vhalla.” Major Zerian didn’t even glance up from the paper Daniel had handed him when he spoke. But the declaration earned Vhalla a few other nods of support.

She followed Aldrik down the back hall, gripping and un-gripping her fingers nervously.

“Did you intend for that to happen?” Vhalla spoke first when they entered the room.

Aldrik arched a dark eyebrow questioningly.

“When you asked me to find the food stores, did you really want to know in order to destroy them? Or did you have me find them so you could lead someone else to suggest it? So you could squelch the idea of prolonging the siege past your father’s deadline on my success?”

The prince crossed over to her, a wicked and appreciative gleam in his eyes. “You put that together?”

Vhalla swallowed and nodded, his expression making her skin flush.

“You are brilliant, my love.” Aldrik descended on her and Vhalla’s body became centered on how her mouth fit against his. “But,” his expression changed as he pulled away, “you must be careful. You speak like a lady—they are beginning to see you as one—but we are not there yet.”

“You’re talking about your father.” Vhalla stepped away, tugging off her armor in frustration.

“He is still the Emperor,” Aldrik sighed, sounding no more pleased than Vhalla felt.

“Why is he the way he is?” Vhalla turned. “How is he so cruel?”

Aldrik stilled, and Vhalla bit her lip. He cut off her hasty apology for speaking about his father. “He wasn’t always like this.”

Vhalla stilled, hanging on Aldrik’s words.

“When I was a boy, he hardly spoke of war or conquest.” Aldrik stared straight through her. “But, it changed ...”

“What did?” Vhalla encouraged.

“Emissaries from the North, long ago, refused something he wanted, and it turned my father sour.” Aldrik was so still his lips barely moved.

“What did they want?”

“The knights had one, and they—So, Egmun told him that it was necessary. He told Father the history of the continent and Egmun had said, he said it was necessary, that it was the last one. Father would never let it fall into the knights’ hands ...”

“What, Aldrik?” she pleaded, waiting for the prince to form cohesive sentences. Her flesh crawled at the name of her most hated senator. “What did Egmun want?”

“Knowledge,” Aldrik pressed his eyes closed tightly. “Above all else, he wanted knowledge—and then me.” The prince’s eyes snapped open, and there was something crushingly horrible about the way Aldrik looked at her. “When the North refused, Egmun said I could help, that I could still make my father proud. I gave it to him. I gave him that glimpse of truth, and I turned my father into this.”

“What?” Vhalla gripped his hands tightly. “Aldrik, you’re not making any sense.”

“No.” Aldrik shook his head and pulled out of her grasp. The action seemed so foreign now that they were so close; Vhalla didn’t even know how to react. “I won’t speak on this.”

“Aldrik—”

“I said no, Vhalla!”

She shrunk away.