Empress of Dorsa (The Chronicles of Dorsa)

but Tasia ignored all of them. She remained stock-still in her high-backed chair at the center of the dais, hands folded on the table, waiting with the patience of a statue for the noise to die down. When it finally did, Tasia addressed them again.

“I have not finalized the details of the campaign to end the War in the East,” she told them calmly. “So I am not yet ready to expand upon when or how the army will be departing. What I can tell you is that I have spoken to some of the Western lords, and they concur that the troops they brought to assist me in taking the throne back from the traitors, numbering some ten thousand, will form the backbone of the new offensive.”

Not all the lords seemed pleased by this news. First Mace of House Gifford would become their new Emperor, and now the final great offensive in the East would be led by Westerners? Someone near the front muttered something about a Western power grab.

“No, Lord Bellun,” Tasia said sharply, green eyes flashing as her gaze locked onto the mutterer. “When my grandfather Lord Hermant, your former ally, attempted to marry me to your son Quentin, that was a naked grab for power. You had everything to gain by making your son the Emperor and stood to lose nothing. By contrast, the Western Lords put themselves at great risk by publicly moving to support me when the rest of you did not dare to raise your voice against the false Regent. If the Western star rises now, it is through their merit and loyalty to the House of Dorsa.” She scanned the faces in the room once more. “If you want your own House’s star to rise under my reign, I give you a chance now to make up for past slights by coming to my aid in this most crucial of offensives. I am my father’s daughter, which means I have a forgiving nature, but you can speed my forgiveness by sending me your fighting men. Barring that, at least send me the supplies that grease the wheels of an army. Stop the name-calling and bickering; it only makes you sound like jealous siblings. As my father said, the Empire is one family, and when our family unites, there is no force on this Earth as powerful.” Tasia pushed to her feet, leading everyone in the room to hastily do the same. “I bid you good day so that you can speak with your advisors and send word back to your homes. I will see you again at the wedding in two days’ time.”

Without waiting for the council to respond or pepper her with questions, Tasia turned and walked towards the room’s back door.

She avoided Joslyn’s questioning gaze as she went.

#

The eventide meal passed in a blur, as did the summer evening’s routine of walking through the palace gardens with the children – who’d added Darien of House Paratheen to their ranks.

Joslyn had a good impression of Darien so far. She assumed he must take after his mother, Halia, of whom Tasia had spoken highly, because he had none of the arrogance of Lord M’Tongliss – either that, or the incident with the Order of Targhan assassin had thoroughly eliminated any arrogance he might have.

Regardless of which parent he resembled more, Darien was polite and attentive with Adela, and so far as Joslyn knew, had not hinted to her of their betrothal as of yet. Linna also confirmed to Joslyn that her experiences with Darien had been positive, both when she was a household slave for Lord M’Tongliss and now, shadowing Darien and Adela under Tasia’s orders. In theory, Linna served as Darien’s “translator,” since his Wise Man-Brother Jalid had been murdered by the assassin, but the boy needed no translator, so in practice, Linna served as Tasia and Joslyn’s little spy.

Tasia rested on a stone bench while Adela named the garden’s flowers for Darien and Linna. A few yards farther down the path, Milo held a butterfly on his palm, turning it this way and that like a small and curious Wise Man.

Tasia glanced up at Joslyn and patted the space on the bench beside her. “Sit, Commander,” she said. “All your looming and glowering blocks the evening sunlight.”

Joslyn hesitated.

“There are no assassins lurking amongst the garden’s flowers, Joslyn, I promise.”

Reluctantly, Joslyn took a seat next to Tasia. After the close call with the assassin, the Brothers had finally returned Ku-sai’s great curved scimitar to her, which she now wore upon her back. At her waist, she continued to wear a standard-issue Imperial short sword on one hilt, plus one of the new rune-marked daggers on the other. She adjusted all three blades in order to sit comfortably.

“You look more like a knife rack than a palace guard these days,” Tasia said.

Joslyn only grunted.

They sat there in silence for a minute or two, content to watch the children enjoy themselves beneath the fading sun.

“When do you plan on trying to talk me out of leading the Eastern campaign?” Tasia asked at last. She didn’t look at Joslyn as she said it; she kept her gaze fixed on Adela and Darien.

“I could start now, if you like,” Joslyn said.

“I’d rather you didn’t start at all.” Tasia finally glanced at Joslyn, but only briefly. “Besides, I already know all the arguments you will make to convince me to stay in Port Lorsin.”

“Do you? What are they?”

“Some variation of …” Tasia straightened, made her face stern in what Joslyn could only assume must be an imitation of her. “It’s too dangerous, Tasia,” she said, doing her best to impersonate Joslyn’s Terintan accent. “That’s the one you’ll probably spend the most time on. Then there’s We know next to nothing of the Kingdom of Persopos, and even if we did, you are an empress, not a general.”

“Also true,” Joslyn agreed, some of her gruffness softening into amusement.

“Your place is here, with your people. Mace is not ready to rule the Empire in your absence.”

“Ah, that last point is a good one,” Joslyn said. “I had not thought to say it, but you’re right. He doesn’t seem political enough to do well in your absence.”

Tasia harrumphed. “I already have a counterargument for each of yours. As to the point of it being too dangerous, I will remind you that I battled the undatai at your side – in the Shadowlands, no less – and lived to tell the tale. I have grown quite capable of taking care of myself, and you know it.” Her eyes flicked up and down over Joslyn’s body. She lowered her voice. “I don’t even really need a bodyguard anymore. I keep you in my employ mainly to warm my bed at night.”

Joslyn snorted.

Milo came running up to them, his gloved hands cupped around some treasure, a wide grin on his face.

“I caught one,” he declared breathlessly.

“Oh! Let’s see,” Tasia said.

Milo carefully cracked open his hands, just enough so that Tasia and Joslyn could see the bright, red-and-black butterfly flexing its wings inside.

“You’re a lucky boy,” Tasia said. “That’s a Queen’s Son butterfly. They migrate to Port Lorsin from the Adessian Islands every spring to lay their eggs, and when the caterpillars stop wreaking havoc on our gardens, the adults fly back home to the Islands with all their brothers and sisters. It’s good luck if you catch one.”

Milo’s face fell at the mention of brothers and sisters. He opened his hands, lifting the palm that held the butterfly and holding it in the air until the Queen’s Son flew away. Once it was gone, he turned back to Tasia and Joslyn, wide grey eyes filled with emotion.

“I want it to be with its family,” he said in a small voice.

“Sweetheart,” Tasia said sympathetically. “Come sit with your Empress a moment.”

Tasia moved to the end of the bench, and Milo squeezed into the space between her and Joslyn. Tasia wrapped an arm around his narrow shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

“I was just telling the Commander why I’m taking an army to the East,” Tasia told him. “And do you know one of the reasons why I’m going?”

“Why?” Milo asked.

“To find your family, of course.”

“It doesn’t matter if you find them or not. They’re all shadows now. Thanks to me.” Milo wouldn’t look at them; he kept his gaze focused on Darien, Adela, and Linna. Darien had just plucked a purple flower from a vine and was trying to put it in Adela’s hair. But Adela giggled and swatted his hand away.

“My soldiers will all have daggers that can separate mortals from shadows,” Tasia said. “You saw it work yourself.”

“It might be too late for my family, though,” Milo said glumly.

Tasia responded by squeezing him tighter, kissing his head a few more times.

She and Mace would have beautiful children together, Joslyn thought as she watched. And she would be an excellent mother. Joslyn looked away.

“What about your brother and sister?” Tasia asked. “The ones who took the regal and joined the army? Maybe I will be able to find them. Tell me their names again?”

“Milton and Megs,” said Milo.

Tasia chuckled. “Milton, Megs, Milo. Did your parents give all their children names that started with ‘M’?”

“No.” Milo’s tone was serious. “My little brother’s name is Quent, and the baby’s name is Nilla.”

“Five children,” Tasia mused. “Your mother and father must have been very busy with all of you.”

“Six,” Milo corrected. “I have another older sister, Malota. She got married and left to live with her husband before Milton and Megs joined up with the recruiter. But I sent shadows into Malota, too.”

Joslyn put a hand on Milo’s shoulder. “You cannot blame yourself for what happened. You didn’t know how to fight back. But you’re learning to fight now. Focus your mind on that, and no one will ever be able to force your hand again.”

Tasia shot her a dark look that said Don’t say such things to a child, but this time Joslyn didn’t look away. Tasia might have a better maternal instinct than Joslyn, but when it came to the topic of children being hurt by adults and learning to fight back, Joslyn was sure she understood Milo far better than Tasia did.

“Milton and Megs are probably both dead,” Milo said after a few seconds of silence. “Killed by mountain men in battle.” He turned his face towards Tasia’s, mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t want you to go to the East, Empress. No good will come of it.”

“I know you don’t want me to go,” Tasia said. She met Joslyn’s eye. “But I am the Empress, and above all, the Empress must be responsible for her people. Even if that means putting myself at risk to protect them.”

Joslyn wanted to say, You can protect them from Port Lorsin; there’s no need to command your armies from the field. Leave that to the generals.

But Joslyn wouldn’t contradict Tasia in front of Milo. Or in front of anyone else, for that matter. She would hold her tongue until they had a chance to speak in private.

“Some will say that the best way for me to protect my people is to stay in Port Lorsin,” Tasia went on, as if she’d read Joslyn’s mind. “But those people forget that I don’t know which generals I can trust. They lied to my father, hiding the fact that shadows were infecting the army. And if they lied to him, they will most certainly lie to me. That’s why I have to go myself. I have to make sure that this war really ends, once and for all.” She turned back to Milo, giving him another squeeze. “And if I can, I will find your brother and sister while I am there. The moment I do, I’ll send them to Port Lorsin to be with you, so that they’ll be safe.”

Milo did not answer. Neither did Joslyn.