At the same time that Annika was reaching to feel her sword in its hiding place beneath her bed, Lennox was wiping blood from his.
Lennox surveyed the hillside, catching his breath. Three more souls to add to the tally he’d long stopped counting. With all the lives lost at the tip of his sword, no one in the Dahrainian Army could challenge his authority. Annika, on the other hand, had drawn blood only once. And it was purely accidental. All the same, there were few who could challenge her authority, either.
The marked difference was that those who could, did.
Annika stood carefully, her legs still ever so slightly sore. She practiced her steps until she could move as gracefully as she was used to, and by the time her maid walked in, they both agreed her gait was passable. She sat at her vanity, her eyes looking at the edge of her bed reflected in the mirror. Her sword—hidden under her bed—would have to wait another day or two, but she was thrilled at the possibility of shattering one of the few rules she was still capable of breaking.
Lennox, meanwhile, sheathed his sword and strode down the quiet hillside. Kawan would be pleased with his update. Wanting to keep his situation as secure as he could, he made sure to never give him reason to be displeased. When this war was over—if it ever even started—an entire kingdom would be forced into submission, and Lennox would have his heel on the neck of it.
Annika and Lennox both focused on their upcoming day, unaware that the other existed, and blind to how they’d change the trajectory of each other’s lives.
Or how they irrevocably already had.
Lennox
I walked back to the castle, trying to decide where to stop first: my quarters or the mess hall. I looked down at my coat and boots, wiping at my cheek. The back of my hand came away with traces of dirt, sweat, and blood, and I could see splatters of all three across my shirt as well.
I’d go by the mess hall, then. Let everyone see.
I headed toward the eastern-side entrance, which was the least tended area of Vosino Castle. To be fair, the rest of it wasn’t much better.
For lack of a better term, Vosino was a hand-me-down, left deserted by some forgotten kingdom and claimed as our home. Minimal effort was given to its maintenance. After all, it was only meant to be temporary.
As I walked in, I saw Kawan sitting at the head table. As usual, my mother was by his side.
No one ever joined them. Even I’d never been presented with an invitation.
The rest of the army sat as they pleased, mixing among unofficial ranks.
I drew attention the moment I entered, strolling coolly up the center aisle, my wrist resting on the hilt of my sword. Conversations dropped to whispers as people craned their necks to get a better view.
My mother noticed me first, her powder-blue eyes looking me over in a scowl. When people joined our ranks, finery and gowns were abandoned for a uniform of sorts, and most people were left with very little in the way of personal items. Mother reaped the benefits of this: she came down to eat daily in dresses once worn by someone else in the castle, the only woman in Vosino Castle afforded such a privilege.
To her right, Kawan’s face was covered by the goblet he was drinking from. He slammed it on the table, wiping his wiry beard with the back of his already dirty sleeve. With a heavy sigh, he settled his eyes on me.
“What’s this?” he asked, motioning to my bloodstained clothing.
“We had three attempted deserters this morning,” I informed him. “You might want to send carts for the bodies before the wolves start scavenging.”
“Is that all?” Kawan asked.
Is that all?
No, it wasn’t all. It was the most recent act in a string of deeds done for the sake of our people, done in Kawan’s name, done to prove myself. And here I was, standing silent and
dressed in blood, waiting for him to finally—finally—acknowledge me.
I stood my ground, demanding he take note.
“I think it fairly impressive to single-handedly subdue three young, well-trained recruits in the dark of night. To guard the secrecy of both our location and intentions and come out on the other side without a scratch. But I could be wrong.”
“You often are,” he grumbled. “Trista, tell your son to calm down.”
My eyes flickered to my mother, but she remained silent. I knew he was baiting me; it was one of his favorite pastimes. And still, I was very close to taking a bite. I was saved by a commotion in the hallway.
“Make way! Make way!” a boy shouted, running into the room.
A shout like that meant one thing: the most recent Commission was over, and our troops had returned.
I turned around and watched as Aldrik and his lackies strolled into the mess hall, each of them pulling two cows behind them.
Kawan let out a low chuckle, and I stepped to the side as my moment was eclipsed.
Aldrik was everything Kawan was looking for. Broad shoulders and a bendable will. His messy brown hair flopped forward over his forehead as he knelt down in the same place I’d just been standing. Behind him were two other soldiers, ones he’d specifically chosen to go with him for his Commission. They were covered in red mud, and one of them was shirtless.
I crossed my arms, taking in the scene. Six cows in the mess hall.
He could have left them outside, but Aldrik clearly knew this was by far the biggest and best conquest one of these missions had produced.
The worst? A body in a burlap bag.
“Mighty Kawan. I have brought back half a dozen cattle for the Dahrainian Army. I submit my offering before you, hoping it proves my loyalty and worthiness,” Aldrik said with his head bent low.
Several people applauded, grateful for resources. As if this would be enough to feed even a fraction of us.
Kawan stood and walked over, inspecting the cows. Once he was done, he slapped Aldrik on the shoulder and turned to the crowd. “What say you? Does this offering please you?”
“Yes!” everyone shouted. Well, almost everyone.
Kawan let out a guttural laugh. “I agree. Arise, Aldrik. You have served your people well.”
Applause rang out, and the crowd converged around Aldrik and his team. I used the opportunity to duck away. I could only shake my head, wondering who he’d stolen them from. I was about to mentally chastise him for being so proud of himself, but then I looked at my shirt and reminded myself exactly who I was and let it go.
It was just a job, and now my job was done, and I was going to sleep for a bit. Well, if the only woman I cared for in this castle would allow that.
I opened my door, and Thistle started yipping immediately.
I chuckled. “I know. I know.” I walked over to my sloppily made bed, scruffing the fur on the back of her head.
I’d found Thistle when she was just a kit. She’d been injured, and it seemed her pack had left her. If anyone understood that, it was me. Gray foxes were typically nocturnal—a fact I’d learned the hard way—but she always perked up when I came in.
She flopped back on the bed, showing me her stomach. I scratched her and then moved the planks from in front of the window.
“Sorry,” I told her. “I just didn’t want you to see me with a sword. Not like that. You can run off now if you want.”
She stayed on the bed as I looked at myself in the small, broken mirror on my desk. It was worse than I’d thought. Dirt was smeared along my forehead, and blood was splattered across my cheek. I took a deep breath and dipped a towel in my basin of water, wiping away everything I’d done.
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