A muscle in Phile’s jaw jumped. “No, but it still makes me angry.”
Rakel placed her hand on Phile’s shoulder and shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s different now—better than anything I could have dreamed of.”
Kai leaned into Rakel and peered up at Phile. “What are you mad about?”
Phile smoothed her face, letting a smile return to her lips that cast a warm glow on her olive-colored skin. “Nothing, children. Would you likemeto sing you a lullaby?”
“Yes, please!” Gerta wriggled out from under Rakel’s hand and scurried to Phile’s side, almost tripping in her eagerness.
“I only know songs from Baris. This one my mother sang to me when I was a wee thief. It’s about sand and stars and tales that never end,” Phile said.
The children wiggled in anticipation.
Phile started humming. The song was lower pitched than Rakel would have imagined, but Phile sounded lovely as her smooth voice danced up and down while the logs in the fire crackled.
Rakel leaned back, warm with contentment as she listened to Phile and watched her friends and comrades in arms seated around the fire. Farrin stood nearby, listening—with a subtly amused expression—as Topi and Snorri discussed spying techniques with Bunny and Crow. Steinar sat next to General Halvor, and the two were deep in discussion with Pordis—the merchant guildmaster of Glowma who had arrived with a supply caravan that day.
She scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar head of brilliant red hair and a charming smile. He was standing in the shadows, fixing his cloak, so she almost missed him.
Instead of his usual smile, his face was lined with grief. “Oskar?” Rakel murmured. He turned his back to the fire and walked away.
Rakel rose and slipped after him, worrying over his expression. “Oskar.” She hurried to catch up to him.
“Ah, Princess! I hope you enjoyed tonight’s celebration.” Oskar’s bright smile was back on his lips, but Rakel could still see a lingering grief in his green eyes.
“I did. Is everything alright?”
“Of course,” Oskar said in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…unwell.” She was unsure of how to further inquire without overstepping her boundaries.
“Ahh, it is nothing you need to trouble yourself with, Princess,” Oskar said. “I have seen my own folly, and I must be forced to live with my regrets.”
“If you would like to talk about it…”
“I am not worth your time, Princess.”
“Of course you are,” Rakel said. “You have supported me and stood with me. Iwantto hear what is troubling you.”
Oskar sighed and shut his eyes. “It’s when you say things like that, that I feel like the most awful being in Verglas.”
Rakel reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but she hesitated. “I apologize.”
“It’s not you, Princess, it is my own sins that plague me.” Oskar turned so they faced the circle of campfires. The peppery scent of smoke lingered in the air, and Rakel could detect a whiff of the boar they had roasted earlier.
“Yes?” she prodded.
“I have done wrong by you for so many years, and I didn’t see it,” Oskar said. For the first time ever, Rakel could sense the difference in their years and see it in his face. Though he was ten years older than she, he usually looked as young as Phile or Knut. Tonight, though, his eyes were tired and heavy, his smile sad and jaded.
“You did for me what no one else did, Oskar. Before anyone had need of me for this invasion, you treated me like a human being,” Rakel said.I know that, now. All those years I thought you were mentally addled, you were sincerely friendly.
“Perhaps.” The bitterness in his voice made the word sour. “But I could have done so much more.”
Rakel studied his face, searching for clues.What is he talking about? He was the sole being who truly cared for me.
“All those years on Ensom Peak. I should have spirited you away from Verglas and taken you to Baris. Magic isn’t feared there—it’s just something some people have—but no one sees much use for it, so it’s generally ignored.”
“Oskar, you are too noble to resort to kidnapping.” Rakel smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
