Queen of Embers

XX. The Lady

"No!" Sorne shouted, the sound echoing through the Duke's private chambers. The situation in the hall was under control for the moment, but only because Katalin and the others had arrived to smooth things over. Not that any of the recent arrivals really expected what happened any more than Sorne had.

Katalin pursed her lips. Her eyes were red from crying, but at the moment she seemed firm. "There are consequences to every action, Sorne. My degradation and Ezkibel's death created a void of power and you were the one with the strength to strike down a duke with full confidence. Besides, they know that the army answers more to you and Vipsania than me. Incredibly more so now. It is a logical conclusion."

Sorne rubbed her hands together to ease some of the itching. "I'm not a noble," she said bluntly.

"They don't know that," Alesander said. He'd taken a seat on the main table for maps, which was currently clear. There was something akin to relief on his face. He looked more like a boy than a prince now, at least by facial expression. There was no haughtiness or regal appearance, only the expression of someone who successfully evaded an axe's blow.

"And what happens when they find out who I really am?" the warrior snapped.

Vridash shrugged. "I mean, if they find out what's going on with the Nessa thing, I think it'd only make them believe in you more." He was watching his words in front of Alesander, at least.

"You have power, Sorne," Katalin said with clear emphasis. "Besides, perhaps this will teach you that not every problem can be solved with a sword. That may work for orcs, but you are in Genev. Ruling must be a careful, thoughtful business."

Sorne had no idea where the unreasonable line was, but she doubted she'd crossed it yet. This whole business was a hot mess, and Sorne knew it was only going to get worse if she didn't nip it in the bud. "I don't want to lead and I will not rule."

"Regardless of your wishes, you now control three duchies and their forces," Katalin said calmly. "I will advise you if you so wish it, Lady Thayer."

"Call me that and I will turn you into paste," Sorne threatened. She took a deep breath. "Every time I've led, people have died."

Zhou piped up from the windowsill, where he was stretched out as much as possible across the large, broad stone ledge currently bathed in warm, golden sunlight. "It's a war, my friend. People always die in war. Good people, bad people, whoever. That said, if we fall to infighting, everyone will die when Aldana sweeps in. This is a lesser of two evils by far."

"There are worse people for the job," Vridash said in his best voice of reason way. "At least you've actually led people into battle before, Sorne. We don't exactly have a ton of commanders with Ezkibel gone. He did most of the thinking for his people. It's you or Vipsania, and no offense to Not-Kith, but an Imperial in charge wouldn't look good. You're at least from here."

Sorne felt that same, weighted feeling of Fate's gaze. She was beginning to hate it. Visions of the bodies of her friends across the scorched earth of the battlefield at Losena's walls flashed across her vision. Do you care what happens to the soldiers under your command? she asked herself. The answer came to her quickly. Yes. I never want to lead people to their deaths again.

But wasn't that what she was doing anyway? Arguing this point meant attempting to fool herself into ignoring the truth. Vipsania gave the orders, but Sorne helped construct the plan and everyone knew it. People died because of her, on both sides. What was the point of pretending? To ease her conscience? That seemed cowardly. It was just that the idea of standing on a pedestal guaranteed a fall that would take everyone with her.