Page 103 of Lark and Legion

“Oh, didn’t you?” Azaleen asked, not believing this line for a minute. “And you most certainly dictate what your people believe, as much so as LeCun and his Core Cult. I know the power of a ruler to influence the masses, so don’t sit there and start lying to us again.”

Irons loosened his tie and gestured toward them with open palms, a look of panic on his face. “Look, things happened. Public opinion—yes, my administration fed off it, nudging it in ways that gave us the advantage. But I’m not a monster. I didn’t order Garcia to murder townspeople or destroy a hospital, and he will be punished for that. I swear it.”

“Like you punished General Crane?” Azaleen leaned back and crossed her arms, glaring at him in disgust.

Irons swallowed, and his hands trembled such that he had to press them against his legs to still them. “No. That was a grave mistake on my part. Power … it can be so intoxicating. Don’t you three ever feel it? You are heads of state, some of you with no elected bodies. The power is yours to wield, to build, to amass. I—I got carried away, drunk on it, but no more. I need you. We need each other to pull together against a common foe.”

“I see no common foe,” Juliette declared, “only one man reaping what he has sown.”

Azaleen was inclined to agree. Why should she help him? “Let me offer a proposal,” she said, opening her arms and angling toward him. “I’m willing to reopen trade with the Red River Republic, so your citizens do not starve. Furthermore, Verdancia still has an interest in establishing an open line of communication with Appalachia, so if any more ‘accidents’ occur, we can discuss them. Trade is also on the table.”

“Thank you, Queen Frost,” Irons said. “Let’s sign papers—a nonaggression pact with a trade rider. But won’t you also consider joining your military forces with ours? LeCun, what about those robots of yours?”

“Surely you jest,” LeCun snapped.

“My soldiers would not take well to being ordered to make friends with those who killed their loved ones, injuring them in the process,” Azaleen replied, appalled that he’d make so bold a request.

“May I suggest,” Tamsin said before another argument broke out, “that we draw up a nonaggression treaty and individual trade agreements between nations, then consider military aid separately tomorrow. Everyone needs time to process what’s transpired today.”

“But this can’t wait!” Irons leaped from his chair as if it had just burst into flames. “The invasion force could reach Dominion before I return! My son, Colt—he’s down south somewhere with a handful of troops. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I saw your boy, Queen Frost,” he said, motioning to her. “A fine boy, strapping young prince. Think how you would feel if he were facing downhundreds of thousands, practically alone. We can’t wait to act. I need you all now!”

He stepped forward, then fell to his knees before Azaleen and Juliette’s seats, his hands clasped as if in prayer. The room stilled.

“High Chief, you agreed to help Frost, to be Verdancia’s allies. I need allies.”

Azaleen almost felt sorry for him; she didn’t wish his son ill, but Luther Irons had given her nothing but grief.

“I’m surprised you want sinners and heretics as allies, President Irons,” she said. “Isn’t that what you call us? Mutts and perverts? Libertarian scum?”

Juliette angled her head at him. “The best way to gain a friend is to be a friend. Your actions have been anything but friendly.”

“I’m sorry!” The pompous president burst into tears. “I’ll change.”

Azaleen had seldom known anyone who said those words to truly follow through. No one spoke.

A rapid knock at the door startled the conclave. Tamsin rose from her seat. “Who’s there?”

Azaleen tensed, gripping the arms of her chair. Had something happened in the lobby?Eldrin. Lark.

“It’s Mayor Dorr. An urgent message has just arrived from Verdancia.”

The queen’s pulse raced. She couldn’t fathom what had happened that was so pressing.Did those malfunctioning robots return? A powerful hurricane? Caelen!She reached for her throat, noticing she had risen.

Tamsin crossed to the door, opened it, and took the message. Concern etched on her face as she approached Azaleen.

Azaleen held up a hand. Her legs felt wobbly, and her head spun. The news must be devastating, or the sender wouldn’t have interrupted the summit.

“Will you please read it?”

Juliette wrapped an arm around her, lending comfort and support.

“If you wish,” Tamsin replied. She opened the tube and withdrew the letter. Azaleen’s breath caught in her throat.

“It’s from Fort Hammond,” Tamsin said. “Anáhuac fleet engaged. Joint Verdancian and AlgonCree forces holding, but under heavy assault. Multipleships lost. Harbor burning. Reinforcements requested immediately. —Admiral York.”

Silence settled over the room. This changed everything.