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“Minnraven,” Bryn whispered, running her fingers over Revna’s bare shoulder and back up to trace the perfect shape of her lips.

Revna opened her eyes, the light brown colors molten in the candlelight, and Bryn found herself unable to breathe.

Revna leaned in and closed the short distance between her and Bryn, their lips colliding in a slow burn that could melt away the rest of the world. Revna’s warm hand trailed down Bryn’s naked body and found its way in between Bryn’s legs, sinking deep into her core. Bryn moaned into Revna’s mouth.

An hour later, after they had each sated their lust for each other, Revna lay on top of Bryn, breathing heavily. Their sweat-slicked bodies stuck together as they each caught their breath.

“That was quite the wake-up call,” Revna laughed breathlessly.

Bryn grinned, stroking a hand up and down Revna’s spine. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did,” Revna said, picking her head up to look at Bryn. “Thoroughly. But we have work to do.”

Revna extracted herself from Bryn’s hold, forcing her to sit up and see where Revna was going. Noticing that Revna had gone to her desk to find a clean sheet of paper and ink, Bryn’s wonderful mood plummeted.

“Work? This type of wake-up call does not include work,” Bryn whined as she fell back onto her pillows again.

“We don’t want your actions to go to waste, my love,” Revna said, bringing the paper and ink back to Bryn’s bed.

Bryn didn’t respond. The memories from the night before flashed through her mind again. The young assassin tied to a chair, his relief when she said she’d free him, and then the heat of his blood when she slit his throat.

Bryn turned onto her side, staring out the window that looked over Logi once more. The firelight of the night had started to die out, signaling the dawn of a new day being close.

“Bryn?” Revna said tentatively. She reached up to run her fingers through Bryn’s hair again, and Bryn shied away from the gentle touch. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Revna.”

There was only silence before Revna pinched Bryn’s exposed arm.

“Ow!”

“Brynna Helvig, you cut the crap right now. You are not one to wallow in self-pity,” Revna said harshly, pulling Bryn over to face her. “You made a difficult choice last night. It may not have been the choice that someone else may have gone with, but your choice came from logic and the kindness in your heart.”

Bryn stared at Revna, the use of her full name rocking her.

“Your father would have killed that assassin as soon as he gave up the information he had,” Revna continued, softer. “You did what you thought was right to spare him from a prolonged and painful end.”

Bryn’s eyes blurred.

“Carry him with you. Never forget his name. But do not ever think that you are the villain in this tale.”

Bryn nodded, swallowing her emotion and forbidding her tears from falling.

“We need to take the information he gave us and use it in the letter we will send to the King. Once I send it, you will need to draft your letter to Maude. Do you know what you will say yet?” Revna asked, pulling the ink out.

Bryn shook the night before from her mind and tried to remember what she had been reading in her mother’s journal last night.

“I think so, but I need to finish the last entry I read about,” Bryn said, reaching for the journal under her pillow. “It was the entry after my mother took Maude to her fate telling.”

Reading about her sister's fate made her skin crawl. Fate tellings were meant to be kept secret from the child. Her parents had never told Bryn what Maude’s fate was, but Maude mentioned a few times that her fatemark was different from most.

“Okay,” Revna nodded. “I’ll start the letter from the assassin while you finish the entry.”

Bryn nodded, already diving back into where she had left off. The scratching sounds from Revna writing the assassin’s letter was the only other sound in the room besides the crackling fire.

Bryn remembered the most recent entry she had read when she discovered that her mother’s fate had been to take down the King of Flame. She’d had to read that passage a few times before the truth finally settled in her. The truth of why her mother, of all people, volunteered to be the spy for the Kingdom of Rivers, why she had been the obedient wife to get close to Helvig, had dawned on Bryn when she saw what her mother had written.

She felt like if she had known her mother's true self, she would’ve looked up to her more than she had during her short life. Shame had swelled in her when she read about how strong their mother was, tainting every remaining memory she had of her. Bryn had vowed to herself that she would finish what her mother started the more she read her journals.