to step into the role. Aerax was barely more than half that age, yet they had little other option. The princess had not even seen three winters yet. So they wrote Aerax’s name in the books and he began his lessons about how to be a Kothan prince.”
“And now his rank stood between you?”
“Not truly.” Not an insurmountable obstacle. “I could rise through the army’s ranks, become a part of the high command—as my father was. It would only take time and effort, and was no different from what I’d always intended to do. And the way the red fever had torn through the soldiers’ barracks . . . it was said the Destroyer had come at last. So there was no shortage of work.” She had passed a full winter simply clearing houses of bodies. “And that was the true obstacle—how much work there was to do. I bore the duties of two or three soldiers, so it was near summer before I met with Aerax again. But . . . all had changed. He had changed.”
“How so?”
Chest aching, Lizzan lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. She did not know. She still did not know. “There was . . . a distance between us. Never before had there been. And he seemed so very troubled. But when I asked what I could do to ease whatever he suffered, he said there were royal secrets to keep and he now bore burdens that I wouldn’t understand.”
The fisherwoman sucked in a breath through her teeth. “And you did not slice him open there?”
Though it hurt, Lizzan laughed. “I forgave him. I thought it was grief for his mother and his resentment at being trapped in a role that he’d always despised.”
“But it wasn’t?”
Again Lizzan gave a helpless shrug. “He never told me—and I had little time to dwell on it. There was so much to do. Marauders plagued the forests beyond the lake, there were tales of howling terrors and bramble beasts, and it seemed that my soldiers and I were always chasing after enemies that simply disappeared. And the number of soldiers we had was still so few. Dangerously few. But I still did not think that . . .”
“You would lose?” the woman said when Lizzan’s voice faltered.
“None of us believed so. There were but fifty bandits who threatened to cross the King’s Walk. It was laughable. But the army’s high command thought it a fine time to give the bandits’ leader a demonstration—and it was an opportunity for a promotion for me. Already I was a captain in charge of a company of soldiers. So I was to be tested, and my performance observed by all in high command. And it was a fine night for it. Cold and clear, the moon full. The first snow of the season had fallen during the day, so against all the white, nothing could move without us seeing it. So we saw the bandits coming.” Lizzan paused on a hot, shuddering breath. “We did not see what came from behind us.”
“What was it?”
“Wraiths, I think.” Made of ice, and with fingers like knives. With her own trembling fingers, Lizzan touched the scars on her face. “They tore apart my father, my friends . . . the bandits. I fought, until I could fight no more. The next morning, it was Aerax who found me amid all those who’d fallen.”
With his bloodbare face as white as his hair, until she’d breathed his name and he knew she still lived.
“How did he find you?”
“Aerax is the finest of hunters; he can track anything.” But that morning, he’d likely had help from Caeb. “He took me to the palace, and there the questions from the councilors and the king’s court began. I did not right away see where those questions were leading.”
“To the first story you told me?”
“And I, a coward who deserted my soldiers,” Lizzan said dully. “They said I panicked and imagined the attack from behind. They said Varrin’s protection meant that a wraith could never haunt the island. They said either I was of unstable mind or I was a liar. Then I was exiled and my name was struck from the books.”
“So no one could speak to you?”
“Or ever speak my name. Or acknowledge that I ever lived. But I did not care about that. Aerax had survived without a name written; so could I. Yet my family . . . they would bear all the shame that the