Storm and Steel by Jon Sprunk Page B

not allow it to fail.”
    He put his hand over hers. Her bones were so tiny and slender he felt he could crush her fingers if he squeezed too hard. “What if you reached out to them? These fugitive slaves are your subjects, too. They only want to be free, the same as any other man or woman.”
    She pulled her hand away. “No. They have revolted against their lawful queen, and in so doing they have damned themselves in the eyes of the gods. They must be stamped out, or else my reign will collapse.”
    â€œWhat if you approached the problem in a different way?”
    The queen held out her glass to him. It was empty. “I'm listening.”
    He refilled it to the brim. “We could take a two-pronged attack, so to speak. Use the military to suppress the violence and protect your citizens, but also change the laws to improve the lives of your subjects, especially the slaves. If they didn't feel backed into a corner, they might be willing to find a peaceful solution. And it wouldn't hurt to offer clemency to those who vow to give up their revolt.”
    â€œYou never fail to surprise me, Horace of Tines. Most of my zoanii would leap at this chance to garner my favor and increase their own authority, and yet you remained focused on your ideals. As unchangeable as a stone. I will consider your ideas.”
    She traced her fingertips down the side of his face. “You are a remarkable man, unlike any I've ever met. Stay with me tonight.”
    Horace's stomach dropped. Sweat broke out across his forehead and down the back of his neck. “Excellence, I—uh, I'm not sure what to say.”
    She leaned into him and brushed her lips across his chin. “Say you will make me yours this night.”
    â€œI can't. I'm sorry, but I have feelings for another.”
    Her laughter surprised him. “Why should that matter?” She studied his face and then clucked her tongue. “ Zoanii are free to love whomever they desire, with no attachments. Is it my former handmaiden? Bring her along if you like. My bed is large enough for all of us. Your relationship with that little freed slave you keep has nothing to do with what I want.”
    He pulled back from her hands. “Excellence, it has everything to do with me and who I am.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “And if I should insist?”
    A blunt pressure pressed against the back of his head. Just a light touch, but he realized she was questing at the edges of his mind. He envisioned a steel helmet clamping down on his head. Their eyes locked in a silent contest of wills. In the recesses of his mind, a soft voice whispered. You want her so just take her. Right here. Show her what kind of a man you are.
    The door opened, and one of the queen's handmaidens entered. Byleth glared at the slave, but the probing touch vanished. Horace remained on guard as the girl knelt beside the queen and handed her a small roll of papyrus. His concern for his own safety vanished as the blood drained from the queen's face. Even on the terrace of the Sun Temple, as she was about to be wed to the prince of Nisus and possibly murdered thereafter, he hadn't seen her so shaken.
    â€œWhat is it?” he asked.
    Byleth banished the handmaiden with a curt gesture and then crumpled up the scroll, throwing it on the table. “A caravan was attacked by a band of rebel slaves. They seized the gold that was intended for our royal coffers.” She glared at him. “Gold we need to fend off our enemies.”
    â€œI am truly sorry. Was anyone hurt in the attack?”
    â€œHurt?” she yelled. “The soldiers guarding that convoy had better be dead, or they'll wish they were when I flay the skin from their backs and nail them to stakes along that road as a reminder of what happens to those who fail!”
    Horace let out a silent breath, not sure what he could say that wouldn't fuel her rage. But she didn't give him the chance. “First Sword, you will issue