Page 50 of Eyes of Kings

Otta sets down a marker when August walks into the tent. Seated around her are Naov and Tishin, both looking exceedingly attentive. Which is absurd, given Otta Avia is not an advisor, nor has she any formal role in August’s war.

“And why,” August says, “would we want to devastate Laho?”

“August,” Otta says. “I was thinking you’d wandered off into the mountains and abandoned your camp.”

August gives her a dull look. In exchange for ridding a council that has always been a pain in his side, he has his new sister. And because he grew up with her, because he knows how impossible Otta Avia already was, it’s inevitable that Sinoa Tuoleimi promises to be a hundred times worse if he isn’t careful.

He nods to the map of Talin hanging from the board. It’s all wrong. Otta has marked arrows in directions he does not care to go.

“I thought,” he says, “I was very clear about our intentions.”

“It was a good plan,” Otta says. “An admirable one. But the Crescents have abandoned their princess earlier than we accounted for. They are holding tightly to the capital. It will be difficult to face them directly.”

August frowns. Are their spies reporting to Otta instead of him? Has there been some instruction lost along the chain of command—have the Weisannasforgottento pass this sentiment along to him?

“Since when?”

“Since today. The Crescent Societies are blocking qi in the capital.” Otta picks up her red marker again. She draws a bigXthrough San-Er, and August flinches. “We have to adjust. There are provinces that will provide useful resources to begin our reign.”

“I don’t care what resources the provinces are providing,” August says. “We want thecapital.”

“Why stick to the same tactics that were only relevant during the war with Sica?” Otta asks airily. “Talin has grown into formidable shape. Taking the capital is not a surefire way to take the kingdom. Just look at how Princess Calla is floundering.”

August has had enough.

“I need the room.”

“Majesty—”

“Give us the room,” August interrupts, his gaze cutting over to Councilmember Naov. “I have to discuss a matter with my sister in private.”

After joining him at the security base, Otta confirmed what he long suspected. Their history never told the real story; the textbooks were oftentimes contradictory on purpose. The war with Sica did not exist; it was a make-believe kingdom the capital invented to explain why Talin looked the way it did, to hide a civil war between the Tuoleimis a hundred years ago.

The two councilmembers exit the tent. Otta waits for their footsteps to fade. Then she crosses her arms.

“Was that necessary?”

“In case you have forgotten,” August replies, “until you are coronated, you answer to me. You do not make the call.”

Otta narrows her eyes. Deep black, not a wisp of color.

“Iam not your subject—”

“Yes. All who answer to a king are a subject.” August picks up her marker. He draws a vicious line through Otta’s map. Rejecting everything she has scribbled. “That includes you. Tuoleimi or not.”

His outburst doesn’t scare her. Otta inspects his handiwork. Reaches over to rub off some extra ink that bled onto the board.

“Where is Galipei Weisanna?” she asks. Her tone is casual, but the intent behind the query is anything but. “I didn’t see him on the journey here.”

“He has been relieved from his duties.” August puts the cap back on the marker and slides it into his pocket. Perhaps Otta had not noticed August watching from his window, but he observedherspeaking to Galipei while the base waited to disperse. Why ask a question she knows the answer to? “We cannot afford to bring deadweight around with us.”

“I assumed he would have fought to stick around,” Otta muses. “Do anything in his power to convince you otherwise.”

“Galipei understood my wishes.”

“It seems to me that Galipei Weisanna is not the type of guard to sit obediently in Gaiyu.”

“I fail to see how that matters.”