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The Sovereign knows this It is why she keeps her Furies close They would die for her, as my friends would die for me Because in the end, what does all the power in all the worlds n’s father learned that when his daughter took his head Pliny learned at the price of his life I forgot it, distancedbecause of it when Tactus felt as overshadowed and alienated with me as he did with his brothers It is why I started fresh with Victra, why I told Ragnar the truth, why I must make amends with Lorn and Roque

Trust is why Red will have a chance We are a people bound by song and dance and families and kinship These people are allies only because they think they must be

I look at theid that they will break and shatter against each other, not because of ravBoots, pausing to say, "Tell all ill hear, the Reaper sails to Mars And he calls for an Iron Rain"

36

Lord of War

"Power is the crown that eats the head," the Jackal said to me as we planned the invasion He spoke in reference to Octavia But the truth reaches further than that These Golds have had power for so long Look how they act Look what they want They jump at the chance for war They co to join my armada as they learn that I have called for an Iron Rain, the first in twenty years I used the Jackal to spread the news, along with footage of Pliny’s fall Many of thehters, ill not inherit their parents’ estates War their attendants of Grays and Obsidians The worlds of the Society ith bated breath to see what happens today If we lose, the Sovereign rules on If in--coions athers around the dock Blade; crooked and cruel, it is htens as I flex asus bounces against my chest

I cannot see n’s local fleets--but they lie between n’s ancient Ash Lord comes fast from the Core to aid with his Scepter Armada, but he is still a week away He cannot help the Bellona today

My Blues watch enerals--of Victra au Julii’s personal fleet, who abandoned her mother’s forces, of House Arcos, of the House Telereen and blue and pocked with shielded cities White capsher equator Fields of grass along with thick forests coat her surface Clouds swirl about her, a cotton shift to hide her sparkling shielded cities And there are guns Great stations in the deserts, around the cities, where shipkilling railguns point to the sky

My thoughts dip below the surface of the planet I wonder whatbreakfast? Do they knohat coers don’t tremble even on the brink of battle My breath is even I was born to a family of Helldivers I was born to bloodline of dust and toil, born to serve the Golds I was born to this velocity

Yet I aod of war’ But why do I feel like such a boy standing in silly arain, beforeto him talk in his sleep?

I turn to the sea of Gold faces