Cassian sat in a high-backed chair, his hands resting on the carved oak arms. Across from him, Stella leaned against the window frame. She had removed her heavy traveling furs, revealing a gown of deep Northern blue that made her eyes look like ice.
It's been two weeks since she came and for the first time, they were alone. No ministers to perform for, no Duke to appease, and no Elias standing in the shadows.
"The border routes have problems." Stella said, her voice cutting through the quiet of the room. "Your southern patrols move like they are afraid of the mud. If we are to unify our forces, the North expects a faster response time."
"To reduce those problems depends on supply lines, Princess," Cassian countered. He spoke with a calm, flat confidence he had learned in the quiet hours of his tower. "The South has the grains the North needs for the winter. If I move my men faster, the wagons cannot keep up. You would have a fast army that starves before it reaches the front."
