He said nothing, following Solveig’s line of sight to Quillon and the witchlings.
“If I had known this would happen—” he said, his voice full of sincere defeat.
“It doesn’t change the fact that it did.”
He’d allied with Jotunheim, unknowingly aligning himself with the evil who’d started this war centuries ago. And in doing so, he’d brought about the destruction of the very people he’d been trying to lead.
“I couldn’t have foreseenthis.” He gestured to the remnants of their clan.
“This was always a risk on the path that you took,” Solveig said solemnly.
Latham shook his head, changing the subject. “Laeknir didn’t come with you. Did he not survive?”
Solveig couldn’t bear to speak of the old healer, so she answered with a simple, “No, he did not survive.” She stiffened when Latham reached out to comfort her. He dropped his arm.
“I’m so sorry, Sol.”
“So am I, Latham.”
Solveig thought of the decision she’d made to save Latham instead of going after the Lionhead. Choosing one person over the lives of many.She’d done the opposite with Laeknir. His life for the lives of everyone else.
Laeknir had known full well what he was getting into, as did Latham. Still, she was no better than them with her impulsive decisions. But she could not regret the decision to execute Laeknir—his traitorous behaviour had spanned decades.
“What do we do now?” Latham’s question interrupted her rumination.
“I’m leaving tomorrow to ride ahead to Asgard.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked quietly. Solveig really looked at him for the first time since she’d arrived.
“No, Latham. I do not want you.”
She stood and walked away from him.
Solveigwassocloseto gods damned rest and had almost made it to the tent Quillon had set up for her when Trella stepped into her path. It took all her remaining patience to stop and acknowledge her—she did not have the energy to deal with this female.
“What do you want, Trella?” Solveig asked, sliding her hands into her pockets so she wouldn’t stab the witch.
Trella tucked a golden lock of pristine hair behind her ear, eyes shifting. She was nervous. Good.
“We’re going to Asgard?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Trella’s arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted like she was in any position of authority and had the right to question Solveig’s choices.
“Why? We’re Vanir, we should stay in Vanaheim.”
“The Southern Wilds is a Vanir war settlement for the Asgardian armies, the strongest Vanir legion to have ever existed, and we just got wiped out. We need Asgard.” Solveig pinched the bridge of her nose. Why was she indulging this conversation?
“We don’t need the Fae,” she spat.
Solveig sighed. “You are more than welcome to leave. You’re not a soldier. You don’t have to come. In fact, you may want to consider staying behind.” Goddess, she wished they would stay behind.
Trella’s mouth dropped open. “But—”
“Look, Trella, I’m exhausted. I’d like to sleep for the next three weeks, but I only have half a day and a night to rest, so please spit it out.”
“What’s going to happen to Latham? Won’t the queens think he’s a traitor?”
