I watchthe Elvarran soldiers mobilize the following morning while I silently stand on the porch waiting for instructions. They pack away weapons for a later battle, slinging large packs over their shoulders. A stir of light chatter hums among them. Is this all they have left? Wrath told me he lost half of his troops. By the looks of it, it seems like more.
“Ready?” I hear Wrath’s voice behind me.
“Yes.” I turn to face him. Wrath wears well-tailored, clean, dark clothing as he stands beside me, not a detail out of place. “Are we not riding?” I notice an absence of horses below.
“We are not,” he replies vaguely, walking down the steps and disappearing into the crowd.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and find Taryn waiting for me. “You survived your first battle,” she says proudly.
“I feel dreadful,” I admit, my head still aching.
She pats my shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
“What do you mean by used to it?—?”
Wrath’s announcement cuts off my question. “My devoted royal guard, I am eternally grateful for every one of you. Yourservice has allowed us to return safely home, where you all will take a well-deserved break.”
The soldiers erupt into cheers around me, some raising their fists into the sky as they celebrate. Wrath’s small squadron felled its second human kingdom, an accomplishment that would go down in history. With Nythara and Avelisar gone, I wonder if Wrath will continue his conquests after winter, still greedy for more destruction.
While I’m in Khalessor, I must study Wrath’s tactics and determine what moves he plans to make next. Now that he knows Cathros has five thousand men, he may target Oderris next. If he intends to attack my home kingdom, I could send Valentin a letter and warn them of his plans, allowing him time to launch a counterattack.
The squadron hikes towards the base of the mountain, while my sore muscles scream in agony at the thought of climbing such a daunting path. It envelops my vision, and I crane my neck to see the peak. The trail ahead is narrow, a steady, winding incline into the trees. My boots slip on rocks, the loose dirt making my steps unsteady as I climb.
“Are we truly hikingovera mountain?” I ask in disbelief, watching the Elvarrans pass through the terrain with ease.
“Well, your brother controls Crossgate.” Taryn’s smile widens. “So… over the mountain we go!” Her voice is cheery, almost teasing.
I let out a noise of dismay.
There’s a river up ahead. The only way across is a log. Ignoring my unease, I step onto it, wobbling slightly before steadying myself. I hold my arms out to the side to balance as I advance, one foot in front of the other.
Taryn snickers behind me.
“You find this amusing?” I ask, my voice trembling.
My steps are slow, knees shaking as I do my best not to slip.Although the water doesn’t appear deep, I don’t think I could survive the embarrassment of taking a plunge. I’d much rather let the waves sweep me away than face Wrath sopping wet.
“You’re like a bumbling doe.” Taryn torments me, pushing me from behind. “Hurry up! You’re holding up the line.”
“Taryn!” I cry out, stumbling forward as she lets out raucous laughter.
“Come on, Raelys!” she teases. “A snail can pass you at this pace.”
I whip my head around to glare at her, but as I do, I lose my footing. Gasping, my arms flail wildly to keep my balance. Taryn's hands grab my tunic, yanking me upright before I plunge into the river.
“I won’t let you fall,” Taryn insists. “Now,go.”
Sighing, I turn and quicken my steps across the log, rushing to the end. My boot touches the dirt, and I feel my shoulders relax. How humiliating, to be nearly bested by the small task of crossing a log. Every lesson Margaret taught me is useless here. I was never allowed any physical training; they believed I didn’t need it as I always had a guard. Sure, I could play a fugue on the pianoforte, or recount every historical figure in Dratheria, but I am helpless to protect myself.
“You can drop the prim act, Princess.” Taryn bumps her shoulder into mine, sending me into a nearby bush. “Have a little fun."
“I wasn’t allowed much fun in Cathros,” I tell her, clawing out of the brush and back onto the trail.
“Lemme guess,” she says. “You need to be alady.” Her voice drips with sarcasm.
“Something like that,” I reply, picking a stray branch from my hair.
“Sounds boring.” Taryn huffs. “You royals are a bunch of schmucks.”
