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Pyetar narrowed his eyes at her. “I’d choose time with you over any other,” he said so honestly she couldn’t fight the blush across her cheeks. He had a way of doing that. Of speaking so plainly she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Good then,” she mumbled, flustered. “My uncle is… a bit less motivated to fix the relationship between our people.”

His eyes shuttered for a moment, a hint of sadness in them, but he quickly blinked it away.

“It’s a long march to the temple,” she added.

“I know…” Pyetar sighed, glancing back at their groups clustered on opposite sides of the clearing.

“Do you think they’re going to make it?”

“We won’t give them a choice.”

Iryana nodded. “Good. You made Vaneshta a captain?”

He smiled. “She has more than earned it.”

“That she has.”

“We should get moving, take advantage of this last bit of light.”

Iryana stepped away from Pyetar and noticed her charges had dropped their bags and looked to be settling in. She almost hated to do it, but…

“Pick your bags back up,” Iryana ordered. “This isn’t where we’re stopping for the night.”

The group of unforged charges groaned.

By the third day of the trip, Iryana was beyond frustrated with their progress. She didn’t expect everyone to be holding hands and singing songs around the fire when they camped at night, but she had thought they’d grow more comfortable around each other. She hadn’t been able to say more than a cursory greeting to her old team without feeling like she was abandoning her party.

Vaneshta had tried joining her when she sat with her cousins, tried starting up a conversation, but her cousins were so unwelcoming that Vaneshta ended up leaving and didn’t come back.

Her group acted like she was their shield, fussing when she wasn’t right beside them. Like the soldiers would abandon them to the dakii should any come. Even their exhaustion from days of walking didn’t seem to mellow them out. Her cousins and Sergeant Soshya’s soldiers seemed so uncomfortable that it wasn’t safe. Their attention needed to be on the surrounding woods, not on each other.

Iryana and Pyetar had spent their time with their separate groups, Pyetar leading the way with his map of the dakya paths so they could avoid the worst of the beasts. Thankfully, they hadn’t run into more than a spare scout here and there.

The thing that had surprised her was how apprehensive some of the soldiers seemed around her. Their eyes followed her, watching her every move. She couldn’t tell if they feared her or hated her, but she knew they whispered about her. She tried to ignore it. There wasn’t much she could do.

At their first break that morning, the groups once again congregated on opposing sides of the clearing. Iryana drank her water and nibbled on the last of Misha’s pies, watching them with a dreary mood. Edvar and Levek were hanging in there, but their three charges looked beat.

She was considering options for cheering them up when the group stiffened. Iryana spun, following their line of sight, to see Vaneshta headed for them. Lidishta trailing right after her, Pepha and Mezhimar a few steps behind.

Iryana straightened.

When Vaneshta and the others reached them, they lingered there, looking around awkwardly as if trying to remember why they’d come.

“It’s a nice morning,” Vaneshta said awkwardly. Was she trying to win them over? Vaneshta wasn’t exactly the diplomatic type.

Edvar narrowed his eyes. “Unseasonably warm days are usually followed by storms.”

“I’m sure it’s just a nice day,” Iryana hurried to add, laughing nervously.

“It’s worth enjoying it while we can,” Lidishta mumbled. She gave Vaneshta a look that seemed to say, See? I helped.

Vaneshta smiled stiffly. “We’ll make good ground today, as long as we’re all focused on the march.”

Iryana nearly winced.

“Might be worth slowing our pace, actually,” Edvar said. The charges nodded beside him.