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Sorin narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t tell the Lord that the only ones allowed to travel among realms were the Fae, that everyone else was sequestered to their own territories. He didn’t know how much the Lord actually knew. It could raise even more questions. “Why do you think the other realms would even want to come to these lands?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Lord Tyndell put his hands flat on the table and pulled one of the maps towards himself. It was a more detailed map of the Night Children territory. Sorin wasn’t sure if he was impressed or disturbed that it had so much detail of their lands. “So tell me about this Night Children territory.”

Sorin leaned back in his chair and pointed to the map. “Those lands are largely wild and untamed. There are various clans, and there is a ruler of them all, but they largely govern themselves, answering to their Clan Leaders. Their Contessa only steps in when she absolutely must.”

“Interesting,” the Lord said, processing and contemplating the information. He drummed his fingers on the table, studying the map. “How long has the Contessa been in power?”

Sorin studied the Lord for a long moment before saying, “A very long time.”

The Lord met his stare. “I am well aware of the immortal life span that a vampyre possesses. How long?”

“Over five hundred years,” Sorin ground out.

No surprise lined the Lord’s face. Just a man taking in information on opposing forces and strategizing. “She has been unchallenged for that long?”

“No,” Sorin answered. “She has been challenged. She has also slaughtered those who dared to do so in very unpleasant ways. The last one, from my understanding, was gutted and then strung up by his insides. Very publicly.”

Lord Tyndell showed no shock at his statement. He merely said, “Noted. I assume she is harder to defeat than your average vampyre then?”

Sorin nearly choked at the Lord’s words. He said slowly, unsure of how to make this any clearer, “The Contessa has been unchallenged for over two hundred years. She has been undefeated for longer. She will reign for hundreds of years more. You do not wish to cross her path in any battle, my Lord.”

“That is not what I asked you, General,” the Lord growled.

“Why would you need to know how to kill the Contessa unless you are planning to enter the realm of the Night Children itself? She will not leave it. To my knowledge, she has never left her realm. The ones sequestered there keep to themselves. Unless you are planning to send an army into their realm, in which case you will need to first cross at least one other equally powerful and likely more terrifying territory, knowledge about the Contessa is futile. Furthermore,” Sorin added, cutting the Lord off as he started to argue, “I could not tell you how to defeat the Contessa if I wanted to. That is knowledge I do not have, nor has it been recorded in any books I have ever had access to.”

Lord Tyndell was quiet for a long moment before saying only, “I see.” He stood then, and Sorin did the same. “Come. I am adding another soldier to your Force, and he will be here shortly.”

“Will he be able to catch up quickly?” Sorin asked as he and the Lord strode out of the council room.

The High Force was small but tight knit. They were deadly enough individually, but as a group, they were even more lethal. They worked in tandem, having trained so thoroughly together, they could anticipate each other’s moves. If they had been Fae, they would have been one of the finest units Sorin had ever witnessed.

“He has ambition and has requested to be assigned to the High Force.He is highly skilled, but I told him he had one month to get to the level of the others or he would be out,” Lord Tyndell answered.

“When does he start training?” Sorin asked, looking over at the Lord as the sound of clashing swords filled the air.

“Today,” he answered, pointing to the training galley doors at the east side of the room where Mikale Lairwood was walking into the galley.

“No,” Sorin said.

“Excuse me, General?” Lord Tyndell asked, ire seeping into his voice.

“I will not train him,” Sorin said, gritting his teeth.

“It is not a request, General. It is an order,” the Lord answered with lethal calm.

“Does he understand I will be his superior?” Sorin asked, watching as Mikale approached them, a smug smile on his face telling Sorin he most certainly did.

“I understand there is a mutual dislike between the two of you,” Lord Tyndell answered. “Use it to your advantage, General Renwell, and give him hell.” With that, the Lord had turned and left without another word.

“I am leaving,” Sorin barked at one of his men. “Tell Baron to run through the formations and get the new guy in shape.”

“Yes, Sir,” the soldier said and ran off to find Baron.

After the conversation with the Lord, he had little desire to spend any time in the same room as Mikale today. Sorin waved off the carriage that pulled up to take him to his apartment, opting to walk the many blocks home from the castle grounds. The streets of Baylorin were full of the hustle of the day, but everyone stepped out of his path. Eyes quickly went to the ground if they met his.

As he walked, he found his mind right back on Scarlett. It had been more than a month since he’d pulled her from that dream and weeks since that night in his apartment where Scarlett had transformed into a Wraith of Death. He still could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that she was Death’s Maiden. Fucking Cassius refused to tell him anything about her. He didn’t know why he cared so much.

That is why I made sure he was here first.