"—and I'm saying we send steel through that hole before it sends something worse out at us!"
The Swordmaster slammed his fist beside the valley map, and three inkwells hopped like startled frogs across the council table.
Didi rolled her eyes and kept tracing frost along the table, counting the fourth Gate argument since breakfast.
'Four rounds of shouting, and nobody here knows what lives beyond that boundary, brilliant.'
"Reports since dawn all say the same, Your Majesty, a stable breach in the southern foothills, nothing's come out, and the watch moved the farmers off the nearest road," the Knight Captain reported wearily.
"Quiet is how it starts!" The Swordmaster scowled and jabbed a finger at the valley marking. "Wait long enough and whatever lives inside thanks us for the extra time."
The Grand Magic Master sighed through his nose and nudged his spectacles up, sliding a survey forward, "A vanguard has to survive the entry before it fights, this pressure shreds any channels that can't take the crossing."
"So your precious pupils stand outside and take notes?"
"Better notes than buckets, which is how yours usually come home," the archmage drawled without looking up.
Atheron tapped the report's edge once, and both academy heads snapped their mouths shut mid-breath like scolded pupils.
"State the minimum, then tell me who can meet it without leaving the walls empty." His voice stayed level, and his hand stayed flat beside the numbers.
The archmage turned the sheet toward the captains, and Didi's jaw tightened, already knowing whose name the answer erased.
"Four Shards, Your Majesty, nobody below that enters this breach, no matter how pretty their drills look."
'And there it is, the polite way of telling a princess to stay home and embroider.'
Gazel stood behind her chair with one hand near the axe strapped across his back, saying nothing very loudly.
"I want a place with the vanguard, I can support the formation while the strongest fighters secure the crossing." She lifted her chin and flattened both palms on the table, frost pattern unfinished between her fingers.
"Your Highness, the threshold already ruled that out, you can't support anyone if your channels tear open on the way in," the captain said, wincing as if the words cost him.
Eyes narrowing, she flicked a needle of frost across the survey and stopped it a hair above the ink, "Three Shards, and a needle packed tighter than the military's standard frost spell, so don't tell me raw count is all I've got."
"Gazel has four Shards, he anchors the front while I work behind him, not everyone needs to lead the charge to matter."
"Compression controls the spell, it doesn't remove the pressure crushing your body, and no shield bearer can cross on your behalf," the archmage countered with the patience of a tired tutor.
The Swordmaster leaned across the maps toward her, his scowl softening into something almost fatherly, "Out here, your precision would be priceless, Your Highness, in there, one slip and no instructor reaches you before the lesson turns into a funeral."
Atheron raised one hand before she could argue for standing just inside the opening.
"Until your fourth Shard stabilizes, you stay outside," he said quietly, setting his fingers beside her frost without wiping it away, "the crown won't send you through a boundary already declared beyond your strength."
'Three Shards worth praising at ceremonies, as long as I never use them anywhere that matters.'
Everyone loved quoting her late mother's legacy, right up until deciding which palace room the daughter should wait inside.
A lord with rings on every finger slid a seal case beside the map, stealing the captain's attention.
He snapped the case open with an oily smile and set his seal beside the valley, "If royal deployment thins the garrison, Your Majesty, a Great Family can supply a private vanguard, experienced swords under contract."
"Private swords collect more than wages, we'll owe whatever else they ask once the breach goes quiet, and no contract makes that appetite smaller," the captain snapped, his hand closing hard around the corner of the map.
The archmage gathered his surveys and tapped the eastern holdings, "The Flint companies cleared regional breaches without royal reinforcement, their senior vanguard meets the threshold, and the eastern margrave has begged for jurisdiction for months."
Didi wrinkled her nose and turned toward the captain instead of the lord peddling soldiers across the table.
"Their leading squad answers to Kenny, five Shards and a habit of scaring the hell out of everyone near him, and farmers won't sleep better once those men hold the roads."
'Ha, look at the ring collector clam up, not even he wants to defend that man.'
Her father pinned both maps beneath one palm and turned to the correspondence official, "The roads stay under royal watch, their assignment is the breach, and the contract states that plainly."
"Contact the Flint patriarch, confirm the mining concession he requested last winter, in exchange for a qualified vanguard ready to secure this Gate."
Several ministers froze mid-shuffle, and Didi's stomach dropped, the concession worth far more than any purse of gold.
"Father, that's the land you refused them before, how much more will they ask once they know we need their swords?" she blurted, half out of her chair.
"Enough to justify a careful contract," her father answered, rising, "which is why the negotiations stay mine, and your place stays outside the breach."
The room emptied behind him, and when the doors thudded shut, Gazel finally stepped beside her chair.
"Private companies will stampede toward the profitable ground, Your Highness, and the watch needs instructions before their captains bring their own."
"Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing," she said, a slow smirk tugging at her mouth.
She dragged the map closer and traced the southern postern route down to the last watch position outside the crossing.
"They won't mobilize before tomorrow afternoon, which leaves dawn for someone to inspect the perimeter before their men decide what the rest of us get to see."
"Inspect from outside, Your Highness, or pick a fight with the barrier itself?" Gazel raised one brow and studied the route far longer than any refusal needed.
"Those are very different orders for the men riding beside you."
"Outside, I want readings and the approach, and nobody crosses on a guess just so the instructors owe me a compliment," she huffed, crossing her arms.
'Ten years of talking him into things, and that particular pause still means maybe.'
"Your father holds me responsible for any approach without permission, and even if you never touch the boundary, my neck won't know the difference," he said dryly, glancing at the doors.
"Your neck is very thick, it'll survive," she teased, patting his vambrace.
He stared down at her without a flicker of amusement, "It's also the only one I've got, Your Highness."
Grinning, she folded the map along its crease and tapped the postern twice, "He'll be negotiating while we ride, six loyal retainers, travel cloaks, no procession, and we're back with something useful before the private captains arrive."
Gazel checked each watch position with the long sigh of a doomed man, then slid the map under her hand.
"Reconnaissance, Your Highness, no crossing, and no changing the assignment once we ride past the postern."
"Reconnaissance, dawn tomorrow, and I'll see the limit myself before the Flints make a ceremony of obeying it," she promised, all innocence, tucking the map away.
Didi left the council room humming, the route folded in her fist, carrying tomorrow's dawn away from her father's refusal.