Laurel leans casually against a window in the back of the room as Silene leads the meeting, expression blank, listening intently but revealing nothing in her features. It takes the centuries of control I’ve honed like a blade at my father’s side to stay seated and keep my gaze from her luscious body. She doesn’t want to reveal anything about our connection, even accidentally, to the Council. She says it’s so that Silene and I can better uncover information within the Council, but I know there’s more to it. I’m content to wait as long as it takes.

“How do we know when there will be a large gathering of rebels at the manor?” Carex asks Silene.

“We don’t, but we actually don’t want there to be a lot of rebels there when we attack,” she responds, the smallest ounce of haughtiness seeping into her tone, so subtle only those who know her well would catch it. She knows about Laurel’s past with Carex and dislikes him on my behalf. I can’t keep my lips from twitching with a smirk—she’s a great friend.

“And why is that?” Carex demands. I clench my fists. I loathe this male. I can’t believe I tried to flirt with him when I first arrived, even if it was just a ploy to get close to Laurel.

“The attack will scare away the less committed rebels, whether we kill many or kill a few. We’re better off not risking inciting rage further by killing someone’s mother, or father, or child because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Silene’s response mimics Laurel’s cool confidence. The two of them together will be an unstoppable force. Carex looks like he’s about to say something, but Laurel steps forward to support Silene, clearly as annoyed as I am by Carex’s continual questioning.

“Silene’s right. We should keep casualties to a minimum. They’re still citizens of Thayaria.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, and I love seeing this side of her. Not quite Witch Queen, but not the Laurel I know either. This is the Queen of Thayaria, the female who has strategically protected her isolated kingdom for three hundred years.

“I agree with Her Majesty and Miss Kalmeera,” Admon offers in support. The ancient fae has yet to find any useful information on the mating bond in his texts. I’m impatient, but only because I know Laurel needs information like she needs chocolate cake and aether.

“And what if we arrive and the rebels have a large contingent who return with force?” Carex asks, haughty arrogance in his voice that makes me want to wrap my hands around his neck.

“We offer them a chance to lay down their weapons and surrender,” Laurel says calmly.