Somewhere behind them, below them, Shanna negotiated with Yoris so that Vivia and her Foxes might remain here. And though Yoris still hated Vivia, he now also feared her. She had raised a ghost navy; she had scared off a fleet of twelve warships; she had won what Serafin had avoided entirely.

Such stories would cross the Witchlands. Vivia and Vaness could earn enemies from it—but also gain many more allies to their cause.

When at last there were no more ships upon the waves—when even her spyglass could discern nothing—Vivia’s lungs unwound. Though only slightly, for there was still so much to do. A village that needed repairing, a shoreline that needed fortifying, and a future that needed planning.

She turned away from the sea. Vaness, however, did not. Her gaze had turned glassy, her focus somewhere on the middle distance.

“We strike,” the Empress said softly, “which justifies that they strike, which justifies that we strike. And it goes back and forth for all eternity. Echoes bouncing across a cavern, except that in a cavern, the sounds eventually fade. With war…”

“It only grows.” Vivia ran her fingers over her spyglass, the brass warm and reflecting the sun. “Justice, we called it here, but in truth, it was just a reason to fight. I would have killed you and all of Marstok, Empress, because it’s what I was taught to do.”

Vaness swallowed. Her eyes, dark and sunlit, dragged to Vivia’s face. “I do not blame you. I was the one who let Nubrevna become a wasteland, all in the name of protecting my people. I never questioned if my methods were right. I simply believed they had to be done.” She squared her body to Vivia, her fingers reaching for Vivia’s hands.

And rather than withdraw like she always did, Vivia slid her glass into her pocket and allowed Vaness to clasp them. The Empress’s touch was cool. The salt wind wefted through her hair. “How do we change that echo? If we try to reclaim our thrones, people will die. How do we keep that from escalating into war?”

“I don’t know,” Vivia answered honestly. “But I do know that I don’t want to kill you anymore, Empress. It’s … well, it’s hard to truly hate someone you know.”

The Empress laughed, a wry rush of air over lips reddened from the sun. “So the solution to continental war is getting to know each other?”

And now Vivia laughed too. The idea sounded absurd when Vaness put it that way. “Well, it certainly can’t make things worse.”

“No.” The Empress squeezed Vivia’s hands, a brief burst of pressure before she withdrew. Strangely, Vivia wished she hadn’t.

“Why the questions?” Vivia scrubbed the back of her head. “Why the doubt? Yesterday you were proclaiming us Well Chosen and convincing me to gallivant into open rebellion.”