“Do you think Haven noticed?” We’d buried nearly fifty bodies. Almost all men and boys.
Zane bent his head, studying his hands in his lap. “Probably. She doesn’t miss much.”
“They took the women and the girls.”
Zane sighed deeply. “Grace’s mother might be alive.”
“For how long?” The Legacian guard used women. Drained them. Discarded them. They might try to train the girls. The women weren’t that lucky.
I hated Legacia, hated it with a fiery passion. What sort of men built their power on the backs of the oppressed? Men andwomen were meant to be equals, but Legacia’s king had perverted the natural order. I clenched my hands into fists.
Zane stared into his ale. “The other men who’ll be bound to her …”
“Are not my concern.” My voice came out sharper than intended, but I had no intention of being bound to Haven. “I might have misjudged her, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” Every important choice, from my cradle to this moment, had been made for me—friends, education, military service, my future role in the kingdom. I’d picked one battle. One. I’d refused to let my mother choose my bride. Having fought long and hard for the right to choose, I’d be damned if I let fate select for me. Besides, I didn’t want Haven. The lie tasted bitter, but I’d choke it down if I had to. I’d rather drink straight wormwood than admit the truth. Even to myself.
“Four Legacian guards, Remy.”
I went very still. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Zane rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a vision.”
I gripped the edge of the table hard enough to make the wood creak. “If any of them were involved in what happened at Banvil?—”
“They weren’t.” He cut me off. “They’re following us. Have been since they arrived.”
“Following us?” The implications hit me like a blow. “They’re here? In Rymar?”
Zane met my eyes. “Behind us. They couldn’t have attacked Banvil.”
I wanted to argue, but his logic was sound. Still, the thought of Legacian soldiers anywhere near Haven made my teeth clench. “So four Legacian guards, a raiding party, nians attacking like never before, what else can go wrong?”
Zane winced. “You’re tempting fate to ask.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not too happy with fate right now. She can get fucked.”
Fate had other plans.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
TEAL
She’d been here. Her warm, cinnamon scent seemed to linger in the air, cutting through the acrid stench of smoke and something worse—the sweet, cloying smell of death that no amount of ash could mask.
“Who did this?” If Flynn expected an answer, he was disappointed. The rest of us stared in shocked silence, expressions fixed in disbelief, unable to speak as we processed a ruined village.
Grayson’s gaze landed on something glinting in the ash-streaked snow. He dismounted and bent for a closer look. “Fuck.” His face grew stonier with each passing second until he looked more like a statue than a man.
Pierce, who’d been scanning the fallow fields, the forest, and the bony black remains of the villagers’ houses, shifted his gaze. “What is it, Gray?”
Grayson picked up a dagger. “Guard issued.”
We all stared at the weapon, trying and failing to find a good reason it should behere.
Grayson’s hands shook. Grayson’s. Hands. Shook. He knew what this meant.
I did too, and the pale light reflecting off the blade cut through me. “This makes no sense.” The words felt hollow. “Why would guards attack a village?”
