Rakel looked to Phile—hoping she would object—but the Robber Maiden was gone. She held in a sigh. “Very well.”
“Excellent! First thing—we must set about introducing you to the merchant guild leaders. They might be willing to lend us funds. Pordis is the one you should concern yourself with the most, but there are others…”
Farrin blinkedand tried to keep his breathing even in spite of the pain.
Sunnira glanced up from his wound and shook her head. “You should have killed the princess when you had the chance.”
It was only Farrin’s longstanding friendship with Sunnira that kept him from feeling more than irritation. Killing Rakel was never an option—though it had taken him several meetings to realize that. “I am reluctant to slaughter a fellow magic user,” he lied.
“Then you should have let Kavon’s assassination attempt carry through,” she said, brushing a lock of her chestnut hair out of her face. She returned her gaze to his shoulder—knitting muscle and skin together with her magic.
Farrin was again thankful he was lucky enough to have Sunnira as an officer serving under him. She was one of their best healers and had saved his life—and the lives of the other magic users in their unit—more times than he cared to remember.
He kept his face blank even though his body was wracked with pain—healing was not a soothing experience. “It wouldn’t matter. These wounds aren’t from Rakel.”
“Don’t be a fool. If they didn’t have her, the Verglas resistance wouldn’t have ever formed.” Though her words were sharp, her fingers were gentle as she probed the healing wound. “If you can’t stomach killing her, then dispatch others to do it for you.”
“Don’t overstep your boundaries, Sunnira,” Farrin said, letting his displeasure show in the weight of his voice. “We might be longtime friends, but I run the north armies, not you.”
Sunnira sighed. “I know—you have Tenebris’s trust just as you have mine. He trusts you to take the northern part of Verglas. But what is it about this royal girl?”
“She’s admirable. She is a magic user, but she stands by her countrymen out of her own free will.”
“She’s aprincess. Her life experiences are very different from ours. Living in a castle of ice is not at all traumatizing—you and I survived brutalities.”
Farrin mulled over the thought, surprised to realize he disagreed. He recalled the haunted, lonesome fog that consumed her eyes when he first met her, the way she startled whenever he touched her—as if contact were a foreign concept. Even when he was with the worst of his slave masters, he still knew friends and companions.
Being forced to kill is horrific…but living alone for years with nothing but your own thoughts for company—and as a child? That kind of neglect was terrifying.
“Don’t romanticize her, Farrin. She’s not like us,” Sunnira said, standing in front of him so he could see the earnest worry in her doll-like features.
“You’re right,” Farrin said. “She avoids killing at all cost. We spill blood without a thought.”
Sunnira wove her fingers together. “We have a right to seek out a land to call our own.”
“I agree,” Farrin said, testing out his shoulder. “But I don’t think we should ignore the honor in Princess Rakel’s actions just because she chose a different side.”
Sunnira sighed. “It baffles me how you can still be an idealist when a few years ago you lived only to kill.”
Farrin’s facial scar ached, and he eyed Sunnira. She knew he—as most magic users—fought to forget his past. The unwelcome reminder made him tip his head back. “Why are we here, Sunnira?”
She blinked, batting her long eyelashes at him. “What? How can you ask that? The land?—”
“Is not ideal for our purposes. We would be better off taking over a coastal country. Furthermore, only a handful of our magic users come from Verglas, and they had no particular vendetta against it besides their exile.”
Sunnira sighed. “You are too curious about the princess. What poison has she been dripping in your ears, hmm? You can’t trust anything she says—shewantsus to leave!”
“Sunnira. Tenebris must have told you. Why Verglas?”
“You know why. I’m not having this conversation with you, Farrin. I hope for your sake we are sent south and a new regiment is sent to replace us—one who will properly end the resistance. Now, be sure to rest. Though your wounds are healed, your body is still recovering…” Sunnira chatted on, her usual good humor returning.
Farrin accepted the change with no indication he disagreed with her. He finished speaking with her—taking a few minutes to exchange friendly small talk—offered her a rare smile, and sauntered out of the infirmary.
His face was as rigid as rock.She’s not telling me everything.Though Sunnira was under his command, she was close friends with Tenebris, their leader. She knew the real reason they were in Verglas, and she wasn’t sharing.
Farrin walked through the Ostfold barracks, stopping to enquire after soldiers and officers—taking care to appear unaffected. It took him two hours to reach the other magic users’ quarters. He knocked on the door.
“Come in,” a husky female voice said.
