The early morning light filtered into the war room, a small circular chamber lined with heavy drapery to muffle outside sounds. Maps littered the table before Berenice and Wren, who leaned over, tracing routes with an index finger. A cup of spiced wine sat untouched by Berenice's elbow; her appetite for both food and drink had abandoned her ever since their strategizing sessions became a daily affair.

"This ridge here," Wren said, his tone contemplative as he pointed at a heavily wooded area outside Arenthia. "We could ambush their supply lines if we station scouts on this side and send the heavier forces around to cut their path."

Berenice frowned, feeling the familiar strain behind her eyes. "But that means splitting our forces in three separate directions," she replied. "We risk getting picked off in smaller numbers."

Berenice's gaze flickered across the table, mentally cataloging Arenthia's troop movements and the latest reports from her spies. She couldn't afford another stalemate, nor the whispers of discontent spreading among her soldiers. They needed a definitive victory.

A gentle knock on the heavy door interrupted their exchange. A servant entered, bowing slightly before speaking in a low voice. "Your Highness, Lady Eris requests an audience."

Berenice's brows knitted in mild irritation, the lines deepening momentarily before she caught herself. Wren glanced at her, waiting for her response.

"She'll have to wait," Berenice said, keeping her voice steady despite the irritation that simmered beneath. "We're in the middle of—"

But before she could finish, the door creaked open, and Eris stepped in, her entrance far too deliberate to be an accident. She was dressed in deep blue, her gown moving smoothly against her figure as she bowed gracefully. "Apologies for the intrusion," Eris said, her voice lilting with careful politeness. "But the dresser has arrived, and there are many things to measure today."

Berenice could feel the tension in the room shift. Eris's timing was impeccable as always, her presence demanding attention in a manner that seemed almost effortless. Berenice's annoyance was tinged with reluctant admiration for that subtle confidence, a quality not many dared to wield around her.

Berenice took a breath, steadying herself. "It's fine," she replied, giving a tight nod. "Just give us a few more minutes, and we'll join you."

Eris nodded graciously but didn't leave. Her eyes lingered on the map for a moment, curiosity unmistakable in her gaze. "Are these new deployment routes?" she asked, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of a diagram that indicated their most recent plan.

Berenice exchanged a look with Wren, who seemed unsure whether to entertain Eris's interruption or dismiss it. Berenice's curiosity got the better of her, and she sighed. "Yes, they are."

Eris studied the layout, and for a moment, there was silence except for the slight rustle of her dress. "If I may," Eris began cautiously, "you could consider an alternative. There's a narrow path here, closer to the river." She pointed to a section of the map, her fingers lightly resting on the corner of the northern woods. "If your scouts confirm it's passable, you could send a small vanguard through here and attack from behind while Arenthia's troops advance forward."

Wren tilted his head, considering the suggestion. Berenice, too, scrutinized the map again, imagining the proposed maneuver. It was a calculated risk, but one that could catch Arenthia off-guard if executed precisely.

"It's a bold idea," Wren remarked, a note of approval in his voice. "Unexpected."

Berenice narrowed her eyes, weighing the plan. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to appreciate Eris's quick thinking, but she was careful not to let it show too plainly. "I'll have my scouts check the terrain and send a report back," she finally said, conceding to the idea. "If it holds, we'll revise the deployment."

A glimmer of satisfaction crossed Eris's features, but she was measured in her response. "Thank you, Your Highness."

The decision made, the three of them left the war room, making their way through the palace halls towards the chambers where the tailors awaited. Berenice's thoughts remained on Eris's suggestion. It was not just the practicality of the plan that intrigued her, but Eris's audacity in entering a conversation she wasn't invited to. It could be seen as insolence or boldness, and in her experience, the line between those two was often blurry.

When they entered the chamber, a group of tailors and dressmakers stood ready with bolts of fabric and measuring tools. The room was filled with the scent of lavender and the rustle of rich, heavy textiles being unfurled.

"Your Highness," one of the lead tailors greeted, bowing deeply. "We have prepared the measurements for the ceremonial gowns. If you and Lady Eris could please stand—"

Berenice allowed the tailors to guide her onto the low dais. The next hour passed with meticulous care, the dressmakers pinning and adjusting various fabrics while they spoke quietly amongst themselves. Eris was on a separate dais a few feet away, her gown being inspected and fitted by a separate team. The rhythm of their work was methodical, the silence broken only by the occasional murmur of instruction.

As the tailors adjusted a length of silken brocade around Berenice's waist, she found herself watching Eris out of the corner of her eye. Eris was offering her thoughts on the shade of embroidery, lightly touching the fabric to indicate her preference. Her demeanor remained composed and deliberate, each word chosen with care. Berenice couldn't help but reflect on the night before, at dinner, when Eris had similarly guided their conversation with the same precision. She had initiated most of the dialogue, drawing in Berenice and the others with questions and anecdotes, keeping the flow effortless. It was a skill Berenice lacked—or perhaps, had abandoned out of necessity in recent months.

Her wedding, meant to secure alliances, was only days away, and she was already seeing the ripples of unease in her court. The marriage was a tactical move as much as it was a ceremonial one, and Berenice had no illusions about its significance. Yet, the impending union felt less like a bridge to power and more like another chain binding her choices.

Her thoughts drifted back to Eris's unexpected suggestion in the war room. The boldness of it lingered, adding another layer to her impression of the woman. It was as if Eris was testing the boundaries of her influence, subtly, yet assertively. Was she doing this to gain favor, or was there more at play? Berenice couldn't shake the suspicion that Eris's ambitions ran deeper than appearances suggested.

"Would you like this hem adjusted, Your Highness?" the lead tailor's voice broke her reverie, and she blinked, refocusing.

"Yes, that's fine," Berenice replied automatically. She glanced at Eris again, who had finished her own fitting and was now examining a piece of embroidered silk with quiet interest. Eris caught her eye and offered a small, polite smile, as if to acknowledge the morning's events without addressing them directly.

Berenice turned away, resuming her distant observation of the tailors' work. There was much to consider—more than she had anticipated. Eris was quickly becoming an enigma in her calculations, and Berenice wasn't sure whether that should be a cause for alarm or intrigue.

The final measurements were taken, and the lead tailor announced that the gowns would be ready for the final fitting the following day. The dressmakers gathered their materials, the room gradually emptying until only Berenice, Wren, and Eris remained.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Eris said, her voice soft yet clear. "For considering my suggestion earlier."

Berenice met her gaze evenly. "It was a good suggestion," she replied, the words carefully neutral.

Eris nodded, as if satisfied with the acknowledgment. "Then, I shall leave you to your work," she said, inclining her head respectfully before turning to leave.

As Eris exited the chamber, Wren stepped closer to Berenice, lowering his voice. "You know, she's quite perceptive."

"Yes," Berenice murmured, her eyes following the departing figure. "I noticed."

There was a lingering silence between them as the doors closed. Berenice found herself at a crossroads, not only in the war but in the shifting alliances and relationships forming within her own palace. The decisions she made in the days to come would determine not only the outcome of the war but the stability of her future reign. She could not afford to overlook anyone or anything—especially not someone as quietly audacious as Eris.

"Let's return to the war room," Berenice said finally, straightening her posture. "We still have much to discuss."

As she and Wren made their way back down the dimly lit halls, Berenice couldn't shake the sense that the next few days would bring more than just the culmination of their plans. It felt like a prelude to something larger, a series of small yet significant shifts that could alter everything.

And amidst those shifts, Eris was becoming a variable that Berenice could no longer ignore.