Page 87 of Forged in Fading

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry.”

He pushed his untouched bowl away with a scrape. “Don’t be. She passed giving birth to me, as my father often reminds me. Hard to miss someone you never met.”

Alvara found that difficult to believe but took a slow sip of water instead of voicing that opinion out loud.

“This”—he gestured to the space between them—“I wanted you to know, you earned my respect.”

She almost choked on her next bite. Respect? It wasn’t a word she had ever expected to leave his lips, at least not around her.

“You fought for Ilmanir, for our king. Survived King Einar. Negotiated with the humans. But it’s what you did for him.” Ravanel leaned to the side and stared pointedly at where her back brushed the wood of the bench behind her. “He won’t forget, you know.”

She knew what he meant—anyone would. But she still couldn’t help herself from feigning innocence. “Forget what?”

“You know what.”

Alvara spooned a healthy portion of stew into her mouth and chewed the tender mix of meat and vegetables slowly.

He stared back with no emotion, nothing other than the small downturn of his lips to betray his irritation with her antics. “The lashing. I won’t forget either. And before you say that it meant nothing, let me tell you how full of shit that would be. You mean something to him, and that means something to me.”

That might have been the longest sentence he had ever said to her, but the contents of it weren’t something she was willing to dissect, at least not with him. “So, tell me more about life with one arm. How is bathing going? Because it looks like maybe it’s been a little difficult⁠—”

A blast of air ruffled her hair. But even through the strands, she could see a flicker of amusement cross his face.

Content with a full stomach and a little bit of rest, Alvara wandered through the settlement, her nerves alight with newfound energy. She was the one who had made the blood oath, represented their people, and yet she was sitting around doing nothing while Boden and so many others worked to prepare Gosibik for the refugees.

And no one was here to tell her not to ride back to the town.

“Going somewhere?” Aurilena asked as Alvara finished settling a saddle on one of the horses.

“I’m heading to the town to see where I can help.” Her hand stilled on the buckle she had tightened. “Want to join?”

“I might as well—I need to speak with the chief about Valo. I have information that might be useful.” She prepped another steed for herself while she spoke. “Forging an alliance with the human chief. Impressive, especially for someone with no court experience.”

“You would’ve done it much more gracefully, I’m sure.”

“Just take the compliment, Alvara.”

Alvara couldn’t fathom growing up in a palace, surrounded by nobility and hidden agendas. “Does it surprise you? That your king allied with King Einar?”

“He’s not my king.” Her words bore a sharp edge. “But I would expect nothing less. He will do what he needs to in order to keep his crown and kingdom. He has always looked down on humans and demi-elves.”

Well, the current Valonian king’s own brother had possibly been murdered by demi-elves, but Alvara wasn’t looking to be tossed onto a funeral pyre by Aurilena, so she let that thought go. “Do you miss it?”

Aurilena laughed, the noise so out of place with her stern demeanor. “There’s not much left to miss. I suppose it gave me a purpose, but this does too. And you?”

Missing Dalvi had become a part of Alvara, a piece of mourning woven into the fibers of her soul. “Of course. I don’t think you ever stop missing what you’ve lost.”

Aurilena made a small sound of agreement, one that left Alvara to wonder what exactly she had given up and who she might never see again.

Throngs of demi-elves paced outside the entrance to Gosibik, murmuring amongst themselves, though a few dissonant shouts rang out, shattering any illusion of peace.

The unrest only heightened as Alvara followed a wobbly path to the chief’s halls, where a small mob rippled with tension.

“This reminds me of the time the kitchen palace ran out of seafood,” Aurilena mumbled under her breath.

Alvara surveyed the crowd and spied windswept brown hair and white tattoos at the front. One look from her was enough to part the sea of bodies and reveal a horde of humans blocking the entrances to the two larger halls, weapons brandished and limbs trembling.

“What’s happening?”