"To appease her, I suggest Cassandra launch an aggressive naval blockade against Beatrice's remaining overseas trade ships."
The words hung in the air of the control tower like a death sentence. Cassandra paced across the metallic floor, the heels of her boots clicking with a rhythmic, impatient sharpness that echoed against the reinforced glass walls of the harbor control tower. Outside, the night sky over Aethelgard was a bruised purple, illuminated by the distant, restless glow of the city harbor. Below them, the massive silhouettes of her naval fleet sat ready, their guns aimed toward the horizon where Beatrice's cargo ships were expected to pass at first light. Cassandra turned back to Richter, her eyes glinting with a dangerous, predatory excitement that had nothing to do with love
