he puts on his armor and heads off to battle. I bathe and dress, then head into the queen’s chambers accompanied by Kerren and several other Yshremi guards who now shadow my every move. The queen sits with her ladies, her face pinched with stress. She was so happy that my Aron arrived, but it’s been days and we make no headway, and people just keep dying.
I sit down across from her and Kerren immediately starts tasting the food set out for me. “Morning,” I say to Halla, rubbing my eyes.
“Good morn to you.” Her voice is even, sweet. She’s good at hiding how she feels in front of the guards. It’s only after they settle to their places against the door that she lets some of her stress show. “Another day of this.” She spreads her hands in her lap. “I want to pray to the gods to watch over my husband, but there is no one in the Aether to hear.”
“Aron says they’re gaining ground,” I tell her. “I hope he’s right.”
“But will it be soon enough to save the lives of hundreds of good men?” She presses her fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry. I know you have as much control as I do on such things. I do have a small bit of good news for you on this day. My wizards have a spyglass for you.” Her smile is faint.
“Oh? That’s great. Where is it?” I’m itching to get a good look at the battle in the same way I’d pick at a scab. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.
“We can visit them once you have eaten,” she says, gesturing at the tray of food where Kerren even now stuffs his face, chewing as fast as he can. Tasting my food is a full-time job practically, because I eat so much. Poor Kerren.
I snag a fruit-stuffed tart that already has a large bite out of it and start eating. I know somewhere down in the kitchens, Markos is watching every bit of food that goes onto my plate. “Tell your cooks I appreciate the efforts. I’ve eaten better here than—”
There’s an urgent knock at the door. Before anyone can answer, the knock comes again and then a soldier rushes in, a chest in his hands.
The queen goes white as a sheet. “What is it?”
Oh god. I stare at the soldier’s grim face, wondering who’s died. What terrible thing has happened…because I know this can’t be good.
“Your Majesty.” He bows his head and sets the trunk on the ground. “We found this left in the bushes by the side gate. It says it should be delivered to Lord Aron’s anchor.”
“Is it a trap? Have my wizards been consulted?” The queen’s voice is sharp and I don’t know if it’s anger or relief.
“It carries no magic,” he says and bows his head. “We looked inside to ascertain this before we brought it in and…it is a man’s head, Your Majesty.”
My stomach churns. Someone’s sent me a head? Whose?
The answer comes before I even reach for the trunk. Oh god. I swallow hard and force myself to get to my feet and lift the lid. I open it just a crack, just enough to see Solat’s sightless eyes staring up at me from his handsome face. There’s blood crusting his hair, and…and I shut the lid again.
Solat.
I close my eyes and return to my seat, hands shaking. I can’t even process this right now. I’m so sorry, I silently tell him. I pray this wasn’t in vain. I pray all of this wasn’t in vain. He deserved better than a brutal, lonely death. I’m not going to remember him like this, I decide. I’m going to remember him as the laughing, flirty man who loved to tell stories in Novoro. I’ll remember you, Solat. You and Vitar both, I promise. “Please bury him,” I say.
The guard hesitates. “The dead—we should burn him, my lady—”
“Then fucking burn him,” I snap. “Just do it respectfully.” I get up from my chair and start pacing, my entire body feeling like a live wire about to spark. This is all going horribly wrong. All of it.
Solat’s dead. Captured by the enemy and they knew he was with me. I want to cry but I’m not sure I have the tears left inside me. I feel hollow.
The newcomer leaves with the trunk, his armor jingling. Kerren moves to my side when I stop in front of the window, and puts