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Chapter one

Nerys

T he war had already killed thousands of civilians due to starvation and disease, not to mention brutish soldiers and bandits—but Nerys and her family were not going to join them.

Tucked away in her border village, Nerys had focused on her immediate surroundings, from the local crops to the blacksmith’s skin troubles, and not the problems of the wider world. Until now, when the world’s problems crept in like a spider.

“You have cheese for brains, Nerys,” 1 said Nerys’s older sister, Adilette, who was staring wide-eyed at the vat of boiling water.

“You ruined it.” Wool floated on the surface, contorted into a lump reminiscent of something a cat coughed up.

Adilette was two years older—and three inches taller—than Nerys, and never let Nerys forget either of these facts.

Especially when Nerys made such an obvious mistake.

Nerys frowned. They were standing in the small courtyard behind their home, in the process of cleaning lanolin off raw wool by soaking it in boiling water and soap.

Unfortunately, Nerys got distracted and stirred the wool when it shouldn’t have been stirred at all.

Her mind was focused on other things. Amorous things.

“Can’t we just make mittens?” Nerys asked. “It’s already felted.”

Adilette scoffed, pushing a light brown lock behind her ear, a twin to Nerys’s own color, and didn’t answer.

Even in the steam, her complexion showed bright and clear.

It wasn’t fair. Her sister moved back to her own vat and proceeded to gently lift the sudsy wool out of the boiling water to move it to a fresh pot.

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this anyway,” Nerys insisted. “We’re leaving soon."

“What?” Confusion darted across Adilette’s features, and then understanding. “Oh. That.”

“We need to leave. All of us.”

“We aren’t going anywhere.” Adilette shook her head. “You’re twenty-three.”

“What does that have to do with the war?”

“Nothing, except you’re making my point for me—it is time to act like it. You’re not stupid. Impulsive? Yes, but not stupid, and thank the Living Gods for that.” Adilette focused on her wet wool. “We don’t have a choice. We have to stay.”

“That’s not a choice.”

“We can stay here, or we can die someplace else.” Shouts—playing children and one cantankerous man—emerged from the street in front of their home. “We’re better off staying here,” Adilette said solemnly when the din died down, “and hoping this passes us by.”

Nerys clenched her fists around the rough wooden rod. “We have other options. I have a plan. I told you about—”

Adilette rolled her eyes. “ Cefin ? Please. I don’t care what you do with him in the woods, but if you think he’s—”

“He’ll help us.”

“He’s the captain’s son—he helps himself. And to think you ruined your chance with Shaul for that bloated rooster.” Cefin wasn’t bloated, but there was no point in arguing over his physique.

Nerys grimaced. “You know I didn’t want to marry Shaul anyway.”

“For some unknowable reason. He’s perfectly acceptable.”

“I had reasons,” Nerys insisted, “and you should focus on your own spinsterhood.” Adilette rolled her eyes again—a quasi-permanent state.

And Nerys did have reasons for rejecting Shaul.

Shaul was kind, but Shaul wasn’t going to be able to protect them from the enemy soldiers when they inevitably came to Raven’s Crest, their village.

Not with his pitchfork. “Cefin promised he’d help us,” Nerys said, finishing the argument as far she was concerned.

“Soldiers will say anything. Especially ones who aren’t going to stay.”

“He promised. ”

“Really. He ‘promised.’” Adilette put her hand on her hip, soaking the fabric with her wet fingers, eying her knowingly. “And what did the captain’s son get out of this promise?”

Nerys bit her lip, her cheeks warming. How was that any of Adilette’s business? And it wasn’t like Adilette had a spotless reputation herself—and she was hardly able to point with her own ringless finger.

A knock at the back gate interrupted them, and Nerys found a familiar black-haired head peeping over the top.

Speaking of Shaul—what did he want? Nerys frowned.

When she spoke to him last week, she had made it clear that their relationship was done.

It had to be—she couldn’t let anything interfere with her plan to use Cefin to save her family.

If they were still at Raven’s Crest and the enemy soldiers invaded their exposed village after Cefin and the other soldiers moved on…

at the very least they’d be brutalized and robbed, left to starve even if they survived. And that was the best option.

Nerys dropped the rod and wiped her hands on her skirts. Better to get this taken care of. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure, you will,” Adilette answered. From her tone, Adilette sooner expected a cow to milk itself.

After taking a deep breath, Nerys left the sudsy Adilette and strode to the gate to where Shaul waited.

His eyes widened when she opened it, and his brow furrowed.

His distress pained her for a moment—he was too kind for his own good—but she pushed it aside.

Better for him to have a broken heart than her family have broken necks.

“What is it?” Nerys asked, crossing her arms.

“I wanted to talk.” Shaul’s eyes darted along the street, where their kingdom’s soldiers moved alongside the civilians they were protecting. For now.

“There’s nothing to discuss.”

“There is. I know you don’t love him, Nerys.” Shaul reached out and grabbed her hands. Nerys let him take them. Her heart burned from the familiarity. No. She had more important things to focus on.

“I don’t love anyone,” Nerys said. True enough.

“You used to love me.”

Also true enough.

“Regardless, Shaul, you need to take care of yourself. It’s not safe here.”

“I know it isn’t. I heard the Cerdorani were sighted where the rivers merge.” No… That was closer than ever, less than a full day’s ride away .

“Sighted by who? Are they sure they saw gold eyes? Not a racoon or something?” Cerdorani, like everyone born in the five kingdoms, had eyes that turned at will to a different color and substance according to their kingdoms’ magic.

Those born in Cerdoran had their signature eyes of gold, while those from Ca’mail had their eyes of stone.

Whether the eye changes actually came with the accompanying magic was another story.

Shaul sighed and adjusted his gray cloak, which was lined with white rabbit fur. “Nerys, this isn’t the time for snark. We need to go. If— when — the soldiers leave, we’re the first in line to be ransacked. And you heard what happened to Fern Field.”

Everyone had heard what happened to Fern Field.

Nerys left the tavern as soon as stories were told about disemboweled women, their entrails tied together.

Men butchered to pieces like logs off a tree.

Her nightmares had been filled with little else since.

In fact, that was what made her seek out Cefin—and her plan.

Nerys was proud of that—within one day of hearing about Fern Field, Nerys had ended it with Shaul and managed to get Cefin intrigued with her. A model of efficiency.

Nerys shook her head slowly. “Shaul, I can’t leave my family.”

“Take them with us.”

“They won’t go. Not without a guarantee of safety. But the things out there” ?she waved her hand? “are better than risking it here.”

“What?” Shaul smirked. “Risking it? You don’t trust the soldiers to protect you? That’s why they’re here, right? The R?ll’s protection,” 2 Shaul said mockingly, copying the captain’s introductory speech.

“I only trust myself.” She did. She certainly couldn’t rely on her stubborn father, who insisted he survived two other wars by keeping his ass put in this same village.

Leaving meant trusting strangers, which was an often-deadly mistake during a war.

She wouldn’t leave Raven’s Crest unless Cefin protected them with a guarantee that they’d be safe in the army’s care.

Unfortunately, the kingdom of Ca’mail was strict about the women who could follow the army—one either had to provide some sort of service, such as healing, tailoring, or washing, or one had to be part of a soldier’s immediate family, and only certain soldiers were granted the privilege.

Unmarried women and their families were not allowed. Ever. 3

“That’s your goal,” Shaul said, as if he read her mind, disgust creeping into his features. “You’re hoping he’ll marry you. That way you’ll get your protection when they go.”

“Yes. He can take us with him.” The captain never promised that the soldiers would be in their village forever, and it was an open secret the soldiers would be moved to where they were needed.

While an army wasn’t the best place to live, it was better than the war-torn countryside.

Between the invading army moving ever closer, and neighboring communities turning inwards, leaving one’s home was easier said than done. 4

Shaul paused, searching her face. Searching for some crack in her plan. “You think he’ll give you such a promise?”

“I do.” Nerys held her head higher. “He did. He told me directly.”

“He did.” Shaul echoed. A dozen expressions crossed Shaul’s sun-burned face, each one more pained than the last. Finally, he settled on one—resignation. “I don’t understand. You’re not stupid, yet you’re willing to cast aside someone who loves you on another’s vague word.”

“It wasn’t vague.”

“Has he announced the marriage yet? Provided a bridal gift?” Nerys didn’t answer, and Shaul took that as the “no” it was. “See? As of now it’s just a promise. Words.”

“For now.”

Shaul shuffled and looked at the ground while Nerys shifted on her feet. Was this situation with Cefin ideal? No. But she’d do anything, even carve out her own teeth, if it guaranteed her family’s safety.

A horn rang out, making Nerys jump. The sound did not repeat.