[Lavinia's POV—Western Border—Midnight]
The decoy war bought us exactly what we needed.
Time. Confusion. Fear.
Three things strong enough to break the spine of any army—even seventy-eight thousand soldiers. The first two flanks had fallen exactly as planned.
The third and fourth…were more stubborn.
I tightened my grip on the reins as hoofbeats thundered toward me. Osric's horse surged to my side, dust swirling around him as he straightened in the saddle.
"Your Highness," he reported, voice low but sharp, "as planned—two sides have collapsed. The decoy units lured them perfectly. Our archers eliminated the bulk of their chasers. The remaining soldiers fell by our blade."
"And the other two?" I asked.
Osric exhaled, frustration tightening his jaw.
"General Luke," he said, "is too sharp to fall for the same trick twice. The moment he realized we weren't committing our real divisions… He ordered a retreat. His forces withdrew before our archers could strike."
