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“I’m sorry, but what is your role in all of this?” Finn asked, rubbing his brows with his thumb and forefinger. He sounded tired. Nuri just laughed.

“Come here, Prince,” Sorin said, motioning Callan to the table. “This is the map we have of the Lairwood Estate. Anything you can add would be greatly appreciated.”

He listened as Callan filled in some gaps. They had nearly the entire layout of the house now, but nothing told them where she was being held. Tava had seen nothing when Veda had taken her to her rooms to look at dresses. Finn had seen nothing once Mikale had taken Scarlett up the stairs.

“So she is likely upstairs? Not down in the cells?” Cassius asked, studying the map. “That’s an interesting move on Mikale’s part.”

“He would expect us to believe her in the cells as a prisoner,” Nuri commented. “It is rather brilliant.”

“Focus on the west wing,” Finn said suddenly. “She specifically said ‘my west room.’ That has to mean something.”

Indeed. According to Cassius, every word she had uttered last night had held a double meaning.

Sorin looked at the clock on the wall. A few more minutes.

“Let’s go over things one more time,” Cassius said, noting Sorin’s glance. He looked exhausted and slightly pale. “Nuri and I took care of the orphans last night. They are moved, and I put wards around them. Nuri and I shall go to them once you are all safe.”

“Once Sorin leaves, we will go with you two to a predetermined location to wait for them,” Callan said. “But how is he getting—”

“Do not worry about him. There is not time to explain everything,” Cassius interrupted him. “These are the things you need to know. One: If he tells you to do something, do not ask questions. Any of you.” Callan and his guards nodded. Cassius hesitated.

“And two,” Nuri said, cutting in, her eyes dancing with wicked glee. “Prepare yourself.” Her eyes went to Sorin. “A prince holds her heart.”

Callan’s jaw tightened with a relief he couldn’t hide, but Sorin said nothing as he straightened a moment before a knock sounded on the door. Drake opened the door, and a female entered the room.

Her red-gold hair curled luxuriously around her shoulders and down her back. An elegant sword was strapped to her back and daggers ran along her leathers. Her smokey gray eyes were bright, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

“Look at that rarity,” Sorin quipped. When her eyes narrowed in question,he continued, “You rarely smile, General. Were we not crunched for time, I would have a drink to mark the occasion.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“All I am saying is that Rayner and Cyrus will be upset they missed it,” Sorin said with a shrug and a half grin.

She smirked. “You are lucky I do not have access to my fire here,General.”

“You shall have to settle for shedding mortal blood today, dear Eliza,” he replied as she stepped to his side.

The others were all staring at their exchange, a mixture of shock and fear on their faces. Except for Nuri, of course. A delighted grin filled her face.

Cassius spoke first. “General?”

“I have told you for two years that you are fools for not allowing your women to train and fight alongside you,” Sorin said pointedly.

“Are we ready to do this, Sorin?” Eliza asked, glancing around the room.

“Almost. I need one other thing from you,” Sorin replied. He held out the black ashwood scion and raised his left hand.

Her eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

“This is not a request, Eliza,” he said quietly.

“There is only one Mark that can adorn that hand, Sorin.”

“I know.”

“Absolutely not,” she said again, ire seeping into her tone.

“This is an order,” Sorin snarled.