Page 10 of Witchshadow

“Against empires and raiders.” His spine hardened all the more. “We are attacked daily, and our navy does what it must.”

“Toprotect trade.” Vivia’s head thrust forward. “Don’t pretend to care about the war, Doge. You care only for supply chains and gold.”

And there was the heat in his eyes again. He yanked off his spectacles. “This empire has no wish to expand its borders, YourHighness.We have never tried to grow beyond what we already have—”

“Except for your markets,” Vaness cut in. Now her iron belt spiraled too. “And war must besucha lucrative time for each of your guilds. I wonder which ones profit the most in times like these? The weaponry guilds? The shipbuilding guilds?”

The Doge sneered, all veneer of welcome shed. “If you think that insulting me will improve your odds of an alliance, you are sorely mistaken. Dalmotti allies itself with winners, andyouare not winners.” He spun on his heel, a gust of robes and cold dismissal, before stalking back to his desk.

And Vivia’s magic sparkled, a riptide hungry for freedom. She could shatter this glass in a heartbeat. Show the Doge exactly with whom he toyed.

“Come.” Vaness knifed through Vivia’s thoughts. Her warm hand lay over Vivia’s biceps. “He is not worth our anger.” Even as she said this, her fingers dug with barely contained ferocity into Vivia’s coat.

“No,” Vivia forced out. “No man really is.” Then she allowed Vaness to pull her around, and once more, she followed her lead: chin high, stride long, expression hard and unapproachable.

They did not speak again until they were outside the Doge’s glass walls and in the garden once more. There, Vaness paused just long enough to flash Vivia a smile—alluring, coy—and then lift her hand. “I changed my mind.”

She snapped her fingers. The iron frame around the nearest window melted. Glass shattered to the ground, a great cacophony of spraying shards. So loud, so satisfying.

“Oh my,” Vaness drawled. “What a mess that will be to clean.”

Vivia smiled.

When at last Vivia and Vaness reached the canal street outside the Doge’s palace, the sun had reached its peak. Heat rose from the cobblestones, carrying the morning’s rain and the stink of sulfur and fish. Gone were the jasmine and rose; gone were the guards and attendants.

The main gate clamored shut behind them, final and disapproving.

A lone four-horse carriage waited nearby—an extravagance that had cost Vivia and Vaness most of the pitiful funding Vizer Sotar had graciously donated to their cause. They’d thought the price worth it at dawn, when they’d still believed they might turn an empire to their cause.

Now, all Vivia saw was more waste. More failure.

If Vaness felt as defeated as Vivia, she gave no indication while she waited, posture perfect, for the carriage to rattle their way. Soon it wasbefore them, and the nearest door popped wide. Their lone attendant—if he could really be called that—scampered out with a stepping-stool.

That stool had cost an extra ten piestras.

“Majesties,” Cam Leeri said, offering a clumsy bow. “Did it go well?”

Vaness gave no answer; Vivia simply sighed.

And Cam winced. The reaction was short-lived, though, as it always seemed to be for the boy. With his dappled brown skin and its golden undertones, as well as his doe-dark eyes and quick smile, he was easily the most optimistic person Vivia had ever met. Sometimes it grated on her, but most of the time, it was refreshing to have someone so determined to see good.

It wasn’t until the carriage jolted to a start that Vaness finally spoke. “You know,” she said, gazing out the open window, “I understand your brother better now.” Wind tousled her hair. “Two months ago, when he lost his temper at the Truce Summit luncheon and blasted his winds, I thought him childish. Now I see the empires are unfeeling, and Nubrevna…” Vaness tore her gaze off the canals. Her dark eyes settled on Vivia’s. “You have always been at their mercy. Atmymercy, which I did not give.”

“No,” Vivia said. “You did not.” And there was nothing else to say. Vaness was right. She had shown no mercy for almost twenty years, and now she was tasting the poison she’d once dispensed.

Cam cleared his throat. Outside, traffic and voices and horses filled the day, filled Vivia’s ears. But she didn’t tear her gaze from the Empress. One month they had been together, yet somehow, she felt she scarcely knew the other woman. Vaness had far fewer masks than Vivia—only one, in fact. Yet that Iron Bitch facade so rarely budged, so rarely revealed.

Even now, after a confession, there was only steel in her eyes.

After finding Vaness in the Lovats under-city, badly injured and surrounded by raiders—and after flooding those raiders and leaving them for the Royal Soil-Bound and Navy to handle—Vivia had fled Lovats on her old ship, theIris. Stealing,her father had called it, andtraitor,he had called her. He’d even gone so far as to offer a bounty to anyone who brought her back to the city. Two thousand gold martens that he certainly could not afford, but that would certainly entice the hungriest and most desperate of Nubrevnans.

She and Vaness had taken to the sea right away, only a skeleton crew to sail with—but enough loyalty in all of the sailors to fill an armada. After sailing aimlessly for two weeks, they had finally arrived here in Dalmotti,hoping to forge an alliance with the Guildmasters and find some sort of help in their quests to reclaim their thrones.

Vivia hadn’t expected them to fail quite so quickly.

She was the first to break the stare with Vaness, and she could feel Cam practically melt with relief beside her. “Leeri,” she said, angling toward the boy. He wore the Sotar livery—the same salmon-red broadcloth as Vivia’s uniform.

Not that his appearance or hers had helped them any more than this carriage had.