I will personally erase them from existence.
Noël nods, her expression hardened by the anger she clearly still holds. “He’s a coward. Always was. But this time, I swear...”
“He is dead,” I roar.
13
THE HAUNTING SILENCE
“They burn the earth for power, silence their women for pride, and call it order. But even the soil chokes on their footsteps.”
—Ánya Volkóva of Ávera, Mate to Vládan
Arnold
How the fucking son of a whore did that wench manage to escape the carriage? It was empty, and she had nothing on her. I kick at the dirt. It was supposed to be a simple thing. Grab the bitch, throw her at the vólkins’ territory, and be done with it. But no, she had to be a cunning little slut.
I searched every part of her, every curve. Her gown, her undergarments, even the strands of her hair, nothing was left unchecked. She had nothing on her, nothing but the fabric that clung to her body and a stupid handkerchief in her pocket.
“Arnold, calm down,” Gregor says, walking beside me as we follow alongside a stream, so we can make our way back to the carriage when I finally have my hands on this wench. “We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gone far.”
I glare at him, my temper barely in check.Snap. I freeze. My heart pounds in my chest. Just a twig, probably, but the echo through the forest feels too loud.
“Calm down? That bitch made a fool out of me! Do you have any idea what will happen if the knyaz finds out we took her past the village walls?”
Gregor shrugs. His ugly face grates on my nerves. “We still have time. Let’s focus on tracking her down.”
I take a deep breath. I need to rein in my anger, and we have to hurry. Women aren’t allowed to leave the village. If she’s found, I’ll claim she ran away after a night with me, and the shame alone will be enough to condemn her. In Tárnov, a woman defiled before marriage is as good as dead. No one would question it. And Noël can’t accuse me if she’s dead.
But still, what if she escapes? What if she speaks to someone before I can finish her off?Snap. Another twig, a rustle in the bushes. I jerk my head toward the sound, breath stuttering. But there’s nothing. Only shadows.
“Let’s move,” I mutter, trying to shake off the creeping sensation crawling up my spine.
My childhood in the rougher parts of Tárnov was hard. Growing up, I had to fight for everything—respect, power, survival. The military was supposed to be my escape, my chance to rise above the filth of common life. And I did. I’m a commander now, feared and respected, and a man who doesn’t take kindly to being outsmarted by anyone.
I will never understand why they let Noël join. After that day, everything changed. Now a woman in the army, and then what? Talking back? Choosing her own path in life? Who to marry? It’s madness enough that we have to send gifts to those whores before using them for the only thing they’re worth. Ridiculous.
She couldn’t have gone far. Despite her skills, she’s still just a woman, a thought that both angers and reassures me.
Gregor follows, and we move through the trees. Noël has always been a thorn in my side. Defiant, strong willed, and way too competent for her own good. I underestimated her, and now she’s out here, somewhere, making me look like a fool. Unless I make sure she’s dead. There is no way I’m letting her go so easily. How did I get here? How did I let myself get dragged into this?
It all started with a letter.
It arrived like a whisper, a folded piece of paper in an envelope slipped into my quarters, unsigned and unmarked. I might have ignored it, dismissed it as a joke, but the words... They hooked me like barbed wire.
Noël doesn’t belong in the military. You’ve seen it yourself, haven’t you? She’s out of place, out of her depth. But soon enough, she’ll rise higher. And when she does, you’ll be left behind.
I crumpled up the letter the moment I finished reading it, but the words stuck. Whoever wrote it knew what I was thinking. They understood my frustration, the way Noël constantly overshadowed me. How could a woman be better than me at everything? She’s just a girl.
Recently, our troops were competing against each other, and of course, hers won.
Noël’s soldiers were stronger, better, and they fought well. Too well. For some reason, whatever she does, she does perfectly. She arrived at our base a few years ago, and since then, my life has been a nightmare. Whenever I get the chance to show off, she steals my spotlight. She always does everything better. No matter how hard I try, she wins. She’s nothing but a woman, how can she be so strong? It pains me. The thought of a woman being so good drives me insane.
Weeks passed before the second note arrived. This time, it felt more direct, like the writer had been watching me.
Imagine what it would be like without her. No more competition. No more endless defeats. The village would see you as the leader they need. Think about what could happen if she were gone.
That word, “gone,” echoed in my head for days.Gone.No more Noël. No more battles where I came second to her. No more sneering soldiers laughing behind my back because a woman outshined me. The idea festered like a poison, seeping into my every thought.
