Ignoring the fox—ignoring too the pain in her hands and feet, and the new, more frightening pain of hunger in her abdomen, the swollen dryness of her mouth and tongue—Bitterblue set herself to thinking about war.

It was something she’d thought about more and more recently. Monsea had the natural protection of treacherous mountains to the north, east, and west, and a sea border to the south. Nonetheless, with an eye to her warlike neighbors, Bitterblue had increased the size of her army in the last few years. With the guidance and example of her uncle, King Ror of Lienid, whose navy was the finest in the world, she’d transformed her small, disorganized fleet of ships into a still small, but competent and focused, navy. She’d also fostered a relationship with the Dells, her neighbor to the east, which had the world’s largest and most powerful army. Every nation knew that Monsea, though weakened by its own recent history, was not necessarily alone. Monsea had soldiers with swords and bows, Monsea had ships, and Monsea had friends.

But it seemed that Estill also had friends. Why would Winterkeep, of all places, ally itself with Estill in a war? Unlike the Royal Continent, Torla was not a land of warlike nations. Its geography, with isthmuses, mountains, and ice separating its nations from each other, its difficult seas, made war costly and unproductive. Winterkeep didn’t have much of an army, nor much of a navy to transport that army across the Brumal Sea. Airships couldn’t cross an entire ocean. And even if they could, the Dells was positioned between Monsea and Winterkeep. There was no way for a Keepish soldier to reach Monsea without passing through the Dells. And Bitterblue highly doubted that old King Nash of the Dells would sit back and let an entire Keepish army through.

Did Winterkeep have some capability Bitterblue didn’t know of?

Also, what did they want? Monsea’s zilfium? Was this what Mikka had wanted to tell her? Was this why he’d died?

More immediately—now that the Keepish had her, what were they planning to do with her? Ransom her? Hand her over to Estill as a political prisoner? Kill her? Keep her hidden, letting everyone think she’d died, and wait for Monsea to fall apart?

Monsea would not fall apart. Before leaving for Winterkeep, Bitterblue had created small teams to handle each task in her absence. She’d made it plain that while each team might have a leader, no one person was to have more power than everyone else. No one was to become monarch in her stead. And if for any reason she didn’t return, her teams were to continue with the temporary power structure she’d created, and bring in the Council. The Council was to help the Monsean government make as smooth a transition as possible to an independently functioning republic.