Dusk of the Realm

38

"Be quiet," Iliss hissed, whipping her head around to face the Mistress. "You know that they like to listen. We should not be taking any risks."

The Mistress just narrowed her eyes at her. Iliss could never help feeling as if she was a disappointment to her, though she had served as her tool for so long now. She had given up her entire life for her, had done nothing but plotted since the day she turned four years old. She knew nothing else but the ultimate triumph; it was all the Mistress had ever spoken of.

"If Tarin is dead, we will have to withdraw our forces," the Mistress said. "Without his fighting power and command, we do not have the means to win against the Fae armies. I have told you this since--"

"I know," Iliss cut in impatiently. She was not normally so short with the Mistress, but her tension was nearly unbearable today. She was talking down to Iliss, as if Iliss was not perfectly aware at what they were at risk of losing. "But I don't think we should be so rash as to go into hiding, even if he is gone."

The Mistress huffed with irritation. "I have told you this so many times, Iliss--"

"And until now, I believe you had the right idea," Iliss interjected once more, folding her arms over her chest as she turned completely towards the Mistress. "But think about it. If Tarin has perished, and if we are lucky enough to be rid of the princess now as well, the people of the Realm will be in utter disarray. Their symbol of royal power a ruin, their leaders buried under its marble, and they don't even know how it all happened.

"Now imagine that we send regiments of our army to Estrell, Kraedia, Elvestone, Reave, all the cities who could potentially rise against us... Then Pevana stages a coup with her own army in Azure, and I ascend the throne, as is my right." Iliss paused to smile here before adding, "Sure, the warriors could pose a problem, but we always anticipated a fight. Without Tarin's leadership, and with the fog of confusion that's set over the whole city, I think a window has opened for us that we would be stupid to ignore."

The Mistress simply stared at her for a few moments, her grey eyes nothing more than slits as they observed Iliss. Then she shook her head and softly said, "I see."

And that, apparently, was that. The Mistress turned and headed for the door opposite the one Iliss had come through, leaving the latter standing in place, her exultant grin soon wavering.

"Wait a minute," Iliss called out indignantly. "What does that mean, 'I see?'"

The Mistress did not even deign to stop walking; she merely rose her voice slightly as Iliss watched her sleek silver hair, cut in such a precisely straight line that it must have taken ages to groom, sway across her shoulders. "It means, Iliss, that you have placed more hope in the plan that centers around Tarin's death than the one which preserves his life. And I will not condone such a plot, not after everything we have done."

Iliss felt herself boil with fury, and there was no stopping the next words from leaving her lips: "And if I do it anyway?"

That made the Mistress stop, and Iliss almost wished she could take back the words. She did not fear much, but she feared the Mistress' displeasure. Though she had managed to mostly stay on her good side all these years throughout the planning, it began to get trickier once the plans were actually set into motion. Iliss had always known she was a tool, but now she was beginning to wonder if that was all she had ever been meant for. The Mistress seemed a lot more interested in her prospects with the war than she had ever seemed in Iliss.

"If you disobey me, you are a traitor to me," the Mistress replied softly, turning her head so that Iliss could see her single, dainty lifted eyebrow. "And you know perfectly well how I treat traitors, Iliss. You have carried those orders through for me."