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“A moment,” I said, gesturing to the door and glancing at Marth, Rythos, Galon, and Prisca.

Rekja nodded, turning back to stare out the windows.

I opened the door across the hall, finding a small sitting room.

Prisca walked ahead, murmuring quietly to Rythos. I grabbed Galon’s arm. “I need you to—”

“I know. If you fall or if it looks like there is no hope left, I will get her out. I promise.”

Some of the tension melted from my muscles. But I leaned closer. “You will need to hold some power back during the battle. And…if it comes to such a choice, Prisca will fight you.”

His mouth twitched. “Let me worry about that.”

Relief swept through me like a cool breeze, and we stepped into the room with the others, Galon pulling the door closed behind us.

“Rekja knows this city will fall,” I said. “But while he may think he understands what that means, it will be very, very different when it actually happens.”

Rythos nodded. “This is his first test as a king—not yet crowned. And unlike his father, he truly cares for his people. He will likely attempt to stay. If he dies, there is currently no successor to the Gromalian throne.”

I nodded. I had seen it time and time again. Leaders who had stayed behind in a desperate bid to save theirpeople. It never ended well.

“Which means his generals and distant relatives will be scrambling for power,” Marth said. “Right while we need the Gromalians allied with us and focused on the threat Regner represents.”

Prisca nodded, but I could tell it still bothered her— thinking this way. In her mind, we should want to save Rekja because he was a good man. And because no one should be left behind to die.

“So we haul him out of here,” she said, meeting my gaze. There was a hint of challenge in her eyes.

“If it comes down to it, we knock him out and drag him out of the city,” Galon said.

“That would be enough for him to declare war,” Rythos warned.

I barely heard him. I was too busy staring at Prisca’s unprotected body. As much as I still wanted to raid Rekja’s armory, it would be useless.

Panic sliced through me like a blade, and my voice was just as sharp. “You stay next to me, wildcat. I mean it. If you go wandering away to save some unlucky soul, I’ll cart you out of here myself.”

Galon stood close enough to me that I could see his shoulders shaking out of the corner of my eye. Marth made a choked sound. Prisca narrowed her eyes at both of them before turning back to me. “Threats are unnecessary,” she bit out.

Rythos burst out laughing. “With a woman as stubborn as you, threats are all Lorian has.”

My entire body suddenly went cold. I could feel those eyes on me once more. The hair rose on the back ofmy neck, and I suppressed a snarl. If one of the dark gods wanted to drag me to Hubur, they wouldn’t do it during this battle.

I would not leave Prisca alone. Not here.

Prisca sniffed at Rythos. “Traitor.” Turning her attention back to me, she took my hand. Her skin was so soft, the bones of her hand delicate. Fragile. “I know I’m useless without my power, Lorian. I’ll stay close. I promise.”

I cast a single glance at the others, and they grabbed their weapons and filed out of the room.

I caught Prisca’s chin in my hand. “You are not, and could never be, useless. If I have made you feel that way, then I apologize, wildcat. I merely thought we would have more time before…this. I knew you would fight, but I imagined you fully armed and able to access your magic, with enough armor to keep you as safe as possible…and our own armies at your back.”

A sick kind of panic took up residence in my chest as I realized just how much danger she would be in.

Her expression softened. “This city will fall. I know this, Lorian. And I will leave when there is no other choice. But until then, we save as many lives as we can.”

I stroked her stubborn chin with my thumb. “Deal.”

PRISCA

My lungs burned, my heart raced, and I had yet toswing my sword. Behind me, Lorian waited for me to climb up the internal staircase to the top of the northern city wall, following me up once I’d reached the top.