Hunyadi rode away, with Lada staring at his back in confusion.

“Does he want me to find his son a wife?” she asked, turning to Stefan, who had been leaning over to Nicolae and whispering. Stefan pretended not to speak Hungarian, but he understood it.

Nicolae’s face was purpling from the effort of holding something back. Finally, it escaped in a strangled, airy laugh. “Lada, my darling dragon, he wants you to be his son’s wife.”

“The devil take him,” she snapped. Anger and humiliation washed through her. All this time Hunyadi had been viewing her as merely a womb. How could she make the world see her as she saw herself? “And the devil take his son, too.” She rubbed her forehead wearily. No wonder he had tried to command her men. He probably already viewed them as his own, some sort of dowry. “Where exactly are we?”

Nicolae pulled closer to her. “Near Bulgaria.”

Staring bleakly at the winter-dead trees around them, Lada did not know what to do. Kill Hunyadi and move on? Marry his son for a chance at the Hungarian throne? Would that bring her closer to Wallachia, or take her even further away? It was the same choice she had faced before, the only choice ever given to her: take what little power you can through a man.

If she had known this would be her fate, over and over, she would have stayed with Mehmed. At least with him she had that spark, that burning. If Matthias was as smart and handsome as his father said, he would have no use for a wife such as her. And she did not want to be a wife.

Never a wife.

She had left behind love and ridden off to a future devoid of power. “I have nothing,” she whispered.

Nicolae nudged his horse even closer to hers, until their legs brushed. “You still have us,” he said, his voice soft with understanding. “We will figure something out.”

Lada nodded, trying not to let her despair show. How much longer could she hope to keep Nicolae? Stefan? Petru and the rest of her men? Would they choose to stay loyal to her over someone with a reputation and power like Hunyadi’s? Not if they remained with him for much longer.

“We break from Hunyadi at the first opportunity.” She did not know how he would react, but he had more men than she did. She would not risk their lives against him. Until the right opportunity came up, she would grit her teeth and dodge all talk of marriage.

At camp two days later, Hunyadi huddled with three of his men. Though Lada had been avoiding him, the intensity of the men’s conversation hinted at something new. It might be an opportunity for her men to make an exit. Or it might mean she was in trouble.

Lada marched over and shouldered her way in. “What is happening?”

Hunyadi looked up, surprised. “There is an armed force of Bulgars coming our way. They are in a canyon. If we let them get out, they can spread and form ranks. Our best option is to ride and meet them.”

“But you do not have enough time to plan.”

“Attack is my favorite form of defense.”

Lada let the phrase turn over in her mind. It reminded her of something. Tohin—the Ottoman woman who had taught her how to use gunpowder in combat. She had spoken of the need to constantly be on the attack so that other countries did not invade Ottoman lands. Push out so no one can push in. A dealer of death, that was what Tohin had said one must become. Deal enough death elsewhere to keep it away from your own home.

“What kind of force?” Lada asked.

One of Hunyadi’s men let out a dismissive huff of air at Lada’s inclusion in the conversation, but Hunyadi answered. “Mounted, heavily armored.”

Hunyadi had some armored men who could meet such a force head-on. But Lada’s men wore light mail, unsuited to direct combat. Hunyadi must have followed her thoughts. “This is not a battle for your Janissaries. I will keep them in the rear.”

Lada bristled. She knew her men were worth twice Hunyadi’s. He would know that, too, were he not so focused on her as a marriage prospect. But she bit her tongue before she could argue. If Hunyadi was engaged in a canyon, and her men were in the rear, it was as good an opportunity as any to flee.

She sighed, feeling these new threads to the throne snap one by one. She was left, as always, with her only thread of power: herself.

They rode fast through flat, open farmland until they came to the threat. Canyon walls rose before them, a narrow gash through a leagues-long line of rocky, steep hills—the only easy passage for mounted troops.

Lada saw immediately why Hunyadi needed to stop the Bulgars before they exited the canyon. Once through, they had a straight shot to anywhere in Hungary they wanted.

Shouts drifted to Lada on the sharp breeze. Hunyadi was riding his horse back and forth in front of his men. A scout appeared, his horse heaving and frothing. Lada saw Hunyadi’s shoulders tense as he listened to the report. He said something, then pointed at her. The scout nodded.

Raising a fist, Hunyadi roared. His men roared in response and charged after him into the canyon.

Had he told the scout to make certain she did not leave? Lada smiled grimly. She would welcome that. She rode to meet the scout. He trembled atop his trembling horse.

“What is it?” she demanded.

“Hunyadi asks that you watch. If Bulgars begin to come through, ride hard for the nearest village and get the people out.” He pointed to the east, where Lada could see hearth smoke lazily marking the village’s location.

“Does he expect the Bulgars to break through?”

The man shrugged wearily. “More men than we thought. Too many.”

“Why did he go in, then?”

“If they get through, they will burn the village and take all the winter stores. The people will starve.”

Lada frowned. “But it is one village.”

The man smiled bleakly. “It is his village, though. He grew up there.”

Lada rode her horse slowly back to her men, the information nagging at her. They could leave. No one could stop them. But Hunyadi could have left, too. Regrouped elsewhere. Let one small village fall.

“Damn his honor,” Lada grumbled, staring back into the canyon. Hunyadi’s forces had already disappeared around a bend. It would not be long before they met the enemy. Both would be trapped and constricted by the canyon. It would be a slaughter on both sides.

It was not her problem.

But her eyes went to the rim of the canyon. It would be impassable for heavily armored mounted soldiers. But that did not mean it was impassable for everyone.