Iree was prepared to go in alone to explain the prior day’s humiliating loss to the council. That said, mixed relief and horror stacked atop all of her already turbulent feelings when she saw Rhys standing outside the Creed mansion, hands in his pockets and slouching.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

He looked into her eyes. “It’s not right for you to take responsibility for my actions. I’ll explain everything to them.”

Before Iree could figure out how to respond—she wanted to roundhouse kick him in his stupid face—he continued.

“I’m sorry, Iree. For everything.”

Apologies wouldn’t help them right now. “I’ve got a plan to save face for you. Hopefully for both of us, so I want you to stay out here.”

He frowned skeptically. “How? We both know it has to be someone’s fault.”

“So we blame someone they can’t replace.”

Rhys realized instantly. “Dorothea.”

Iree nodded. “She can handle some blame, and it’s not undeserved. My command and our ability can both be proven again. We just have to convince them to give us another chance.”

Rhys shook his head. “I don’t like this. I’ve already been demoted, so I’ve got nothing to lose. Better me than her.” He paused. “Iree, I have a reason to keep fighting. If you’ll give me one last favor, I promise I’ll do anything.”

“What do you want?” Iree asked, keeping her voice brusque to show him that he was by no means forgiven for his words the night before.

“Let me guard Dorothea.”

“In place of whom?” It was important to have Ariana watching Atlin, as she could inform Iree of any suspicions the girl might voice about Sirpo or doubts she might have about her allegiance.

Rhys’ response was a relief in light of that. “If Cerid’s your captain now, let me replace him.” His gaze was burning into her with its determination. “Please give me this chance. If it’s protecting her, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Iree sighed. “Fine. Don’t say I never did anything for you.” But what the fuck had Atlin done that was so special? Iree wished she understood. Rhys was becoming more and more like a stranger.

His smile was boyish in its relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Iree.”

“I’m going to hold you to your word, you know. If I see you hesitate again, that’s it. This is your last chance.”

“I understand,” he replied, firm.

“Do you have feelings for Atlin?” Iree asked, surprising both of them. She’d barely thought about it before the words leapt out.

Rhys let out an awkward laugh. “No, no. Not at all. I barely know her…”

“If you say so.” Iree forced a chuckle. What was she supposed to think? “Though I know it’s none of my business. And I promise, this is the last time I’m going to bother you about it. Friends, Rhys.” She smiled, clapping his back like always.

His face fell. “Iree, look, I…” He trailed off and looked sharply to his left. The call that had reached him drifted to her then too, though she’d missed it at first due to being so focused on what he was about to say. Part of her was glad he hadn’t gotten to finish.

“Iree! Rhys!” Atlin was running towards them in her ridiculous flailing way, flanked by Ariana, Olyen and Creed.

Great. They’d summoned her.

“I’m sorry,” Atlin coughed as she thudded to a stop. “Oh goodness. Breathing. Okay. I didn’t know the council meeting would happen this early until Cerid told me at breakfast just now. Sorry I’m late.”

The rush explained why there was a piece of egg sticking to the side of her mouth. “Atlin, you’re not meant to take part. It’s the job of the commander and the captain,” Iree explained as patiently as she could.

“I want to be honest with what happened,” Dorothea insisted after shaking her head. “I know I’m at fault.”

Iree glanced at Rhys. He looked just as surprised as she felt, so it seemed he and Atlin hadn’t colluded. “Do whatever you like,” she sighed. “But at least try to be tactful about it.”

“Thea’s the embodiment of tact!” Olyen laughed. “There’ll be nooo problems.”

“There are already several problems, though,” Creed objected. “That is the only reason we came here.”

“They didn’t mean it literally,” Ariana muttered. “Damn, Cerid, get a clue.”

Creed frowned. “If I could, I would, but since I am like this, I do not think I can.”

Olyen’s grin widened. “By the way, Thea, you’ve got a little something.”

Yeah, sure. The embodiment of tact. Iree stood straight and took a deep breath. Now to hope that Rhys and Atlin wouldn’t mess everything up.

Since standing around chatting had almost made them late, she rushed the needed players inside and took a sharp turn past the long entrance hallway. The conference room within the Creed mansion was windowless with smooth, dark walls. Flags with the family crest of each one of the council members adorned these walls, providing some welcomed color. Iree wondered how many times and how justifiably these flags had been switched out. Once, the Nobelis and Olyen crests had been presented here.

The council members waited at the front of the room in a wide, gated array of receding row seats, the most influential persons in the foremost columns of the stack. Cinder Creed, the current head, had the front row all to himself. The flag that bore his crest, a shasta daisy with bladelike leaves, hung centered behind the seats. The Tamlin representative, Vinette, was in the second row while the Novak rep, Holly, sat in the back. There was Dale’s father glaring at her from the third row, the other seven members scattered around them. Though it was nice to have some supporters in the room, Iree wasn’t reassured. Depending on how this went, her position could enter some precarious straits.

Iree counted the black flecks of the marble dais in the center of the room as she, Atlin and Rhys approached it. When she stood upon the dais with her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms folded behind her, she looked up with a steadfast gaze to meet Cinder’s impenetrable eyes. As he shifted in his padded chair and cleared his throat, silence spread like a flash of lightning shattering the sky, hushed whispers sliced mid-word.

“Commander Nobelis, Captain Tamlin. Greetings.” Cinder nodded to them. “And this is Miss Atlin, I take it.”

Dorothea curtseyed, all grace and elegance. “Well met, sir.” Her posture had suddenly become immaculate, her movements demure and her expression soft yet commanding in its quiet, serene sense of authority.

Iree looked at her sidelong. So this was what the former leader of Sirpo was like when she was trying to act like it.

Cinder smiled. His eyes shone with interest, calculation and ambition when he looked at Atlin. Iree found it both concerning and weirdly attractive. “Now then. Please explain the loss of Sunmer.”

At least Cinder was one to get down to the point. That, Iree appreciated. She took a breath, and—

“It’s my fault,” Rhys and Atlin stated at the same time. Rhys cast her a shocked look, but she paid him no heed. “It came down to my lack of experience, sir,” she explained, lowering her eyes with respect and shame. “I became so frightened that I could barely think. Captain Tamlin was so preoccupied with protecting me that the enemy got the upper hand. Commander Nobelis directed me the best she could, but I simply wasn’t listening. I’m sorry.”

So that’s how it was. Iree had never needed to throw Atlin to the wolves; the girl came here to do it to herself. Interesting, and…unexpected.

Rhys was stuck now. He couldn’t explain his real role in Sunmer’s loss without directly contradicting Atlin, and that wouldn’t look good for any of them. Still, because he was a stupid man, he would inevitably say something anyways, and because Iree knew this, she talked first.

“I’ve reconfigured the setup of my squad to be better conducive to our success moving forward,” she stated. “Cerid Creed will enter the captain’s position while Rhys will step down and take his place as one of Atlin’s personal guards.” Herein came the main reason for Iree having picked Cerid, of all people, to become the new captain. She’d much rather have chosen Ariana for what it would represent and to reward her for her efforts with Sirpo, but it was Cerid’s promotion that would put the council more at ease.

CInder was nodding. “Very good. Now, please describe it. The Wither-user.”

“He has combat abilities the likes of which I’ve never seen,” Iree stated. “He’s likely spent his whole life preparing to become a tool for killing.”

Vinette Tamlin interjected. “How young was he? Is there a possibility the Wither line has been multiplying?” A collective intake of breath seized the council members before murmurs wove among them. Iree noticed Atlin flinching too.

“The boy is old enough to reproduce, yes,” she replied. “I would estimate that he’s somewhere from his late teens to early twenties. It’s safe to presume for now that he’s still the only one left that’s a threat even if he has been multiplying.” Any children he could have sired would still be too young to fight, and they would just be rats to cull like all the rest either way.

“Regardless, why wasn’t he disposed of properly?” Vinette asked, throwing an accusatory gaze to her son. “Knowing fully well the potential of that magic, you allowed it to continue to exist in the world. Rhys, tell all of us present why you would put your allies, every Sacerian even, at risk like that. Be honest. Did you have the opportunity to kill him at any point?”

Shit! Iree had to think of something, fast. But wasn’t what Vinette was saying true? Rhys had endangered everyone. But there was no telling what would happen to him if the council decided this was worthy of punishment…

Rhys tilted his chin up, and Iree knew with dread that he was going to tell the entire truth.

“I stopped him,” Atlin lied in a clear voice, her words seeming to ring in the tense quiet. “My inexperience got the best of me. Again, I’m sorry.”

Vinette’s hackles were still raised. Iree had to wonder how a hardass like her had raised someone like Rhys. “Sorry doesn’t seem to be quite enough, now does it? I know a Sirpoan wouldn’t fully understand the horror of the Wither epidemic, but for you to allow someone of that line to live is—”

“I do understand!” Atlin snapped. “I understand perfectly well what the epidemic cost!”

Iree winced inwardly. Big mistake. With that, the good will cultivated by Atlin’s repentant, girlish image would vanish.

Atlin knew it too; Iree heard the next breath she took tremble. Her words, however, were steady. “I accepted my duty to reverse time and heal at the start of my alliance with Sacer. I know now that I also have a duty to allow life to be taken. My ignorance cost you, and I apologize. I accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

“What of your failure to stop this war? To save countless lives, to prevent the epidemic, even?” Someone from the back rows demanded. “What of that, girl?”

Atlin didn’t seem surprised by this familiar line of questioning. A helpless tiredness always pooled in her eyes whenever it came up, Iree noticed. “I’m here now,” she replied. “Let that be enough.”

A few council members started to speak up at the same time but were hushed by a light tap of Cinder’s gavel. “What are your intentions, Miss Atlin?” he asked.

She straightened her shoulders and spoke clearly. “For Sacer, my intention is to help achieve victory. For myself, all I wish is to restore my homeland safely.”

“And, as you said, you can guarantee that from this point forward you will act in a manner befitting such a lofty goal?” He smiled down at her, and Iree realized then that Atlin was in no danger whatsoever. It was clear that Cinder Creed had some vested interest in her. What that might be, Iree hadn’t the luxury to wonder.

Instead, she spoke for Atlin. “If she doesn’t, she’ll be treated as any other soldier not fulfilling their duty would.”

Cinder nodded. “Good. That’s the kind of control I expect from you, Commander.”

“I’ll take measures not to let you down again.” Iree looked up and caught Holly Novak’s eye, saw the small, sympathetic smile offered to her. Hollyhock really had gotten all the luck, hadn’t he? Even after having parents vying for peace the same as Iree had, his mother still had a council spot. Iree had lost her parents while Hollyhock had two relentlessly supportive ones; she had lost all of her privileges while Hollyhock still got to enjoy the benefits of nobility.

And it wasn’t just Hollyhock. Creed had nearly unlimited power as the future head, and Olyen and Atlin had freedom and neutrality, a cozy, safe life at their backs. Even Rhys’ parents who supported him in their own way, and he was going after something new now… Why was everything working out for everyone else so well? What more did she have to do?

For now at least, Cinder Creed had decided to be merciful. “Carry on as you will, Commander,” he ordered. “Be mindful that another failure will necessitate more drastic revisions to your elite squad.”

The message was clear. One more misstep and she’d be out. “Sir,” Iree acknowledged before gritting her teeth. No more playing around.

“Now. Once you’ve thought of your next move, please inform us.”

“Yes, sir.” She knew exactly what she was going to do. Before she could move forward with her decisive finishing blow to the War of Wither, there were two soldiers whose loyalty needed to be proven, and she was going to put them through the wringer.

Nobody would stand in the way of the peace she was going to create.