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He knew Areanel sometimes took their children into the city, and they would come back with wild stories about their fun uncles, much to Percival’s chagrin. He was curious as to why she had never properly introduced them to him.

‘Brutus used to stay in the barracks,’ Areanel explained, ‘on the other end of the palace. As you can tell, he isn’t a full-blooded elf. Nobody knows what he is—I don’t think even he does. Anyway, the barracks aren’t a kind place, especially for a child.’ Areanel shuddered as though reliving a nightmare. She glanced towards her Second.

‘A child?’ Rymedur asked, looking towards the hulking man as well.

‘Hmm,’ she hummed, chewing at her bottom lip like she was deciding whether to tell him the truth. ‘Brutus grew up an orphan in Alabasus, in Cal Cathlar—where we travel now.’

Rymedur was surprised when Areanel answered him, not expecting her to share so much about her envoys when she had previously been so tight-lipped. He suspected it had something to do with them no longer being surrounded by the vultures within the Andrean court.

‘He had never mentioned his parents,’ she continued, ‘only that they weren’t around and had never been. Word got out that my predecessor, Titus, brought in a runt. Rumour was, a fourteen-year-old had brutally beaten a soldier of his to a pulp, then slaughtered him with his own axe. Unprovoked.’ Areanel huffed the word. Rymedur didn’t believe the lie, either. Though he didn’t know Brutus well, he didn’t seem like a man who would kill without reason. ‘Brutus didn’t kill him like some mindless beast. The soldier he killed had been known to have acquired tastes.’ Her face contorted in disgust, and Rymedur felt his stomach sour.

‘I asked Brutus about his family once. He told me his family was his sister. She raised him, and he had found her in an alley, left like dirt. Murdered.’ Areanel spoke solemnly, her voice cracking with unspoken emotion. The horror was all too real.

‘The Andrean soldier?’ Rymedur knew he was right without even looking at her expression. But when he did see her, her eyes bore guilt. ‘You couldn’t have known. You were a child yourself.’ He tried, and failed, to comfort her. This was a battle she had been warring with for a long time. The actions of her people.

‘I know. But…’ A tear slipped from her eye, and Rymedur tracked it as it fell down her cheek. ‘You haven’t seen the way he is when he speaks about her, like he’s lost all hope. He lived on the streets for some time before he found the soldier and enacted his vengeance. Titus found him covered in the soldier’s blood. He saw something in him; that’s why, instead of execution, as the law dictates, Titus brought him home to the barracks. It was his punishment, joining the ranks. They threw him in, but little did they expect him to rise so quickly.

‘They used to pit him against the largest and toughest they had. But the stubborn bastard—’ she rumbled with a chuckle. ‘Pertinacious resistance—that’s what I said to him once. He hated being seen as a runt. Did you know he came out as the victor every time? Brutus has always been consumed by this… burning rage.’ There was a phantom of a smile that tugged the corners of her lips as she looked at her friends who rode ahead. ‘Ever since he found Vas, that rage has been subdued. They’ve found love and trust within each other. He loves him. They love each other.’

‘They do. I’m practically a stranger to them, and even I can see it.’ Rymedur shared her smile. ‘How did he become your Second?’

‘You are no stranger to them, love.’ Areanel’s weight shifted until she was leaning further into him. The warmth of her seeped into his shirt and settled upon his skin. Rymedur’s brows pinched as he noticed sweat beading along her temples. She was still far too warm. ‘Believe it or not, Brutus hated me when we first met. I was… eleven when I was first sent to the barracks. The youngest ever. Brutus saw me as competition, as I did him.’

The air seemed to change, the temperature dropping by the second. Rymedur drew his cloak around them, but her skin still seemed too hot.

Tightening his hold on the reins, he shifted his weight so that his body blocked most of the wind.

‘He used to call me a pampered princess,’ she continued. ‘He believed I only got into the ranks because of who my father was. He wasn’t entirely wrong—but it was the fact that I was the only one who came to par with him in terms of intellect. Brutus is a master tactician. My knowledge of battle strategy exceeded expectations, and, according to our superior, my fighting style was better than that of those who had trained for years. We competed—Brutus and I—against each other at everything: swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, even strategising for mock battles.’

Rymedur listened intently. She didn’t often speak of her past, so he soaked every kernel of information up like a sponge, desperate for water. It surprised him how little he knew. ‘What made him change his mind?’

Rymedur was met with silence.

Turning a sickly pale, Areanel’s eyes glazed over as she withdrew into herself. For a moment, something passed over her face. Was that terror? But it was gone as soon as it came, and Rymedur started to wonder if he had imagined it.

‘Brutus found out what happened. The Pit,’ she whispered the name into the dark forest, almost as if she thought, if she spoke clearly, her nightmare would become real, and she would be dragged away once again. Rymedur’s hold tightened around her waist.

‘It hadn’t been the first time. But this one was different. I was gone for a while. When I came back, they had all heard what had been done to me and who had ordered it. I don’t know what it was exactly, but Brutus’s attitude towards me changed.’ A scoff escaped her full lips. ‘I think he finally found me worthy.’

Her blue eyes darted to the large male riding just ahead of them—like he might turn any second at the sound of his name. But he didn’t. His head was lowered as he murmured something to Vasilio.

‘He saw how the others looked down on me. Saw how weak I had gotten and how I wouldn’t allow that to change me. I held my head high, worked twice as hard to get back to where I was before and ignored when others stared at or spoke of my scars.’ As though subconsciously, a hand reached for the area where her scars began, the silvery-white ribbons of raised skin barely visible in the dark, lying flat against her shoulder.

Rymedur gently placed his lips over the tips of her scars, peeking out from the cloak, before placing soft kisses along her skin—skin which was blisteringly hot against his mouth.

Drawing closer, she hummed in response.

‘Brutus saw me one night,’ Areanel explained. ‘I used to train during the night, by myself, because no one wanted me to train with them. They saw me as filth. I don’t know what came over him, but he started to train with me. Day and night. In private, and then with an audience.’ A small smile tugged at her lips. ‘We became fast friends after that, and he has been loyal ever since. Working our way up the ranks together, he was no longer stuck as corporal because of his birth or his actions as a boy. When I reached my position as General, he had already risen to Sergeant, and now he is one of the elite soldiers in our army and my Second. He did that himself. He’s always been strong, determined and bull-headed enough, but Vas brings out a light in him. One I thought had been crushed.’

Slow movements caught Rymedur’s eye as her hand drifted from her shoulder to clutch the necklace that lay against her collarbones.

‘I’m glad it hasn’t either,’ Rymedur agreed, finding himself intrigued. ‘What of Vasilio? Was he like Brutus?’

The chuckle that rumbled against his chest sent his heart skipping. Areanel’s raven hair tickled his cheek. ‘No. Quite the opposite actually.’

They had been travelling for some time now, and Rymedur had noticed gurgling sounds from her stomach. Reaching into the pack hanging by his leg, he passed Areanel the food he had brought with them.

‘What’s this?’ she asked.