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She held the mask in the crook of her arm. “Thismakes it easier to blend in.” Even the way she spoke sounded like Wrena.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, your Majesty,” she answered.
“Just Petra,” I said, and offered a smile. “Are you from Maplenook?” The sound of Wrena’s home was ash on my tongue.
Her eyes widened slightly. “I am.”
I sucked in a breath, something like dread and anticipation bubbling in my stomach. Before I spoke, I turned to Miles. “You can tell them all that they can go.”
“You’re dismissed,” he called, and the men scattered about various tasks, Enella waiting patiently in front of me.
“I had a friend. One of my only friends, really. She was from Maplenook. Her name was Wrena.” I looked down, a spark of shame flashing in my gut. “I never knew her surname.” I held my breath. I didn’t know what would be worse — if she knew Wrena or if she didn’t.
Recognition flashed through her deep brown eyes at the name. “Wrena from Maplenook. She’s my cousin. How did you–”
“She was one of my handmaidens. Back in Eserene.”
Enella’s lips thinned as she surveyed my face. “You said youhada friend…”
I looked to the ground again, working around what I needed to say. “She died. Not long ago.” I couldn’t look up at her. I couldn’t look her in the face and tell her that her cousin died because of me. So I kept my head down, guilt sitting heavy in the back of my throat. “It was…my fault.”
Enella took a deep breath. “She got out of Maplenook,” she whispered, a slight smile on her lips.
“It wasn’t under the best of circumstances,” I replied quietly. “Her brother, Josef… He didn’t make it out.”
She nodded, a silent understanding between us. I was thankful I didn’t have to tell her it was Kauvras’ men that had raided Maplenook and killed her brother. Enella placed a hand on my shoulder, sympathy in her eyes. “We don’t have to talk about it.” She shifted her mask to rest beneath the other arm. “Have you eaten recently?”
Saints, I’d figured the Cabillian army was all brutality and malice. The people I’d met today werekind.
But come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, and weariness hit me all of a sudden. “Come on.” She began walking toward another stone building, a bit larger than the others. “There better be ale and bread in there,” she shouted to the smattering of soldiers still in the small courtyard. “And someone get this girl some Saints damned clothes so she can get out of this fuckin’ wedding gown. Hurry up, or I’ll beat all of your asses!”
“Yes ma’am,” Sentos Whitley shouted back with a grin.
“She’s not lying,” another soldier called, a chuckle following.
Sentos smirked. “Believe me, I know.”
“Do you have a rank, Enella?” I asked.
“Call me Nell. And I’m not ranked. Just a soldier. Well, nottechnicallya soldier, either.” She opened the door for me, revealing what seemed to be a makeshift kitchen with some wooden countertops, a stone oven, and shelves of dishes. Just beyond lay a small mess hall with a few long, ramshackle wooden tables and chairs. “Like they said, women aren’t allowed in the Cabillian army.” She grabbed the pitcher of ale from the counter and filled two mugs, then tore two pieces of dry bread off a half-eaten loaf as I lowered myself to sit at a table. “But Whitley out there, he and I have been best friends since I moved to Taitha. And I’m not the only female in the military.”
Whitley burst in, placing a stack of clothes on the table before me. “It’s nothing too nice, but it’s a hell of a lot better thanthat,your Majesty.”
I winced at the title. “Thank you, Sentos.” I said, offering a weak smile.
Laughter burst from Nell’s lips. “Call him Whit. Whit the Piece of Shit if you’re feeling formal,” she jeered.
“Or Whit with the Big Di–”
“That doesn’t evenrhyme,” Nell sneered, interrupting him before the well meaning profanity could continue. Whit didn’t seem to care.
“Thank you, Whit,” I said with a smile.
“It’s my pleasure. Anything you need, just ask. And I meananything.” He winked at me, a smile on his face.
Nell rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Fuckin’ Saints, Whit! Show the woman some damned respect! She’s the Daughter of Katia, for fuck’s sake.” Her tone was light as my eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. The way she spoke reminded me of Larka in a way that didn’t shoot pain through my chest, but instead made me smile.
