Page 88 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

Two healers slid from their seats without a word, clearing space for us at one of the long wooden tables. We sat, includingZander, which was unusual. He never ate with us. That alone told me something was off.

“What’s happening?” I asked, grabbing a biscuit from the tray in front of me.

Zander cut straight to the point. “The western port in Thubia was destroyed. Since it was by fire, the locals are saying it’s the Blood Fae. But it’s more likely raiders.”

“Raiders?” Riven asked, brows furrowing.

Zander nodded. “Yes. Humans who don’t recognize the crown. Either that, or the local Order had a dispute with a supplier.”

I swallowed a bite of eggs before speaking. “Thubia is controlled by the Order of the Rose. It’s run by a man named Artem. He’s quite respectable... for an Order head, and well-liked by the townsfolk. He actually gives back to his community.”

Zander’s gaze cut to me, sharp and skeptical. “How does a criminal give back?”

I held his stare and shrugged. “His assassinations are usually... of noble birth. He doesn’t cross the commoners unless they break his rules. Most are wise enough not to.”

“What kind of rules?” Jax asked, setting his fork down.

I smirked slightly, though there was no humor behind it. “No stealing from the poor. No killing unless it’s sanctioned. No harming women or children. Break his laws, and he’ll handle the punishment personally.”

Jax leaned back, considering. “Huh. Almost sounds... fair.”

Zander scoffed. “Murder is still murder, no matter how many justifications you slap on it.”

I arched a brow. “Says the prince who just sent us through Deathwing Gorge.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but before he could respond, Riven whistled. “Alright, so the port is gone. The Order might be involved. What does that mean for us?”

Zander’s gaze swept over us, unreadable. “It means we’re going to Thubia. Finish your food.”

Ferrula usually ate her food in silence, but she stared at me for a time. “You know the other Order leaders?”

I took a sip of my juice. “I have only met a few. But I know who all of them are and their… mandates. It’s different for every Order. I’m sorry you grew up dealing with the Order of the Raven. They are the worst.”

Ferrula was quiet for a moment. “How did you know I am Dirian?”

I motioned to her shaved scalp. “Your hair… or lack of. It’s customary for female soldiers to shave their heads in the Dirian army.”

Ferrula nodded. “Attacks on females, even within the army, are common. It is best not to give them something to grab onto.”

Jax slammed his hand on the table. “Are you fucking kidding me? Men from your own battalion?”

Ferrula nodded. “We are authorized to kill an aggressor, though. I have taken down twenty-seven to date. Men like trophies in Diria and the more prestigious the woman, the more they enjoy the victory.”

“I’ll fucking kill them,” Jax seethed.

Ferrula stared at Jax. “Perhaps when we are fully trained, you and I will take a weekend… getaway. There are many rogue bands in Diria that we could visit.

Jax smiled at her. “That sounds like my kind of holiday.”

Zander stared at his food. “Does the king of Diria condone this behavior?”

Ferrula grunted. “He is the worst offender. No woman goes to the castle by choice. Fortunately, he prefers his women younger. He would be more interested in Ashe or Riven. The rest of us are too old.”

Naia grunted. “I’m only twenty-three. But I’ll take the win in this case.”

Zander’s eyes turned black, but I wasn’t sure anyone else noticed before they returned to a dark-lavender.

We ate as the conversation shifted to the outer kingdoms. Cordelle sat quietly, pushing his food around his plate as the others talked about the different regions beyond Warriath. Jax was recounting a story he’d heard about the sand riders of the Eastern Wastes when Cordelle suddenly cut in.