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I step out of the tub, and throw on a nightgown one of the maids brought up on the High General’s behalf.

The thought of the Galrosan over the king’s armies makes my blood boil.

“They’re only following orders, Miss Cale.

Many of them have families that depend on them.

Now they don’t even have bodies to bury,” the General’s words stir the deep chasm of anger within me.

I want to unleash my fury on him too, but seeing how poorly that went for me with the captain, I decide it unwise and trivial, given my current circumstances.

However, rationality does nothing to dampen my anger.

Why should I care about the families of monsters?

Do they not destroy others at his command?

No, those soldiers deserved it.

They chose their paths, and I’ve chosen mine… whatever that is .

If I’m being honest, none of what’s happened in the past week makes any sense. I thought I’d feel some remorse for what I did… but I don’t. The scariest part is that I rejoiced in their deaths and enjoyed how it felt to rip their lives away. My one regret is not killing the dimwit captain myself.

I suppose that event is the most baffling of all.

The creatures haven’t saved anyone, nor pledged fealty to someone, since the Drakhul spread over Malvoria.

Yet, the Eitcham protected me from the captain who would’ve certainly killed me.

If the Eitcham hadn’t intervened, I’d be in Eternity with my family right now.

Perhaps the Eitcham should’ve killed me.

Death seems like a much better alternative to the unbearable waves of grief that continuously threaten to drown me—pulling me under with its current.

While the ale helps me to sleep, it hasn’t aided in lessening the pain.

Which I suppose is why I’m angry as the general made sure that none was available in my room.

“You must be sober for the journey ahead, ” he’d said.

Why would he care if I wallow in my pity and grief? If I desire to drown in my sorrow, then that should be my choice, not his. I suppose he enjoys his life as a monster under the control of Tiernan, along with this cadre.

How do you know they chose to be monsters? the voice asks.

I remain silent.

How do you know they wished to train as killers? Do you know their backgrounds? she continues.

Get out of my head, I snap back.

You’ve seen how the king forces enlistment. Surely, you aren’t na?ve enough to believe that all men who serve Tiernan are egregious, she chastises.

Are you truly going to lecture me on the High General of the soldiers that killed my family? I scoff. Didn’t you offer to destroy them for what they’d done ?

I was referring to the captain and that leech, Antony, the voice replies.

They’re the filth of Celestae, and I would’ve gladly dispatched them.

They’re unworthy of their titles and positions.

But, I can sense the intentions of the General and his cadre.

They aren’t the ones who ordered your family murdered, so they aren’t the ones that deserve your anger.

In fact, I could sense that they felt sorrowful for you.

They’ve killed dozens—hundreds even—in Malvoria. Yet, you wish for me to think of their lives and choices? I retort. I was never given a choice! I don’t even comprehend what is happening to me or why, in all of Celestae, you’re in my head. I don’t even know your name and ? —

My name is Saoirse, she says.

Her reply catches me by surprise.

I wasn’t expecting her to actually answer me, yet something about her name triggers my head to thrum with pressure.

No, it’s not her name that’s causing it, I inwardly tell myself.

My body is detoxing from all the ale I’ve consumed the last several days.

Why are you telling me this now? I ask, climbing into the cot, utterly exhausted.

Because I need you to understand that I serve you, Saoirse whispers. Despite what you believe about me, I’m your ally. I only wish to counsel you so your grief doesn’t cloud your judgment.

You don’t know me, I reply, sleepily.

I used to, she says sadly.

In the recesses of my mind, a forlorn feeling of sadness seeps through. However, it passes quickly as she clears her throat. I’m truly sorry that you lost your loved ones, but I don’t believe they’d wish for you to live in such torment.

I sniffle as tears prick my eyes. No, they wouldn’t, I whisper.

Amelia and Rolph would be so ashamed if they saw me in this state.

They taught me to be the best version of myself—kind, compassionate, loving, gentle, and gracious.

However, the only side left is anger, maliciousness, callousness, vengefulness, and numbness in the aftermath of their loss.

No, they’d be devastated to know what I did to those soldiers, even if it was to avenge them.

It’s situations like this that Amelia and Rolph tried to warn me against…

Situations that would catch the watchful eye of an immoral king and his elite general and cadre.

My dear, Saoirse coos. I’m not implying that you weren’t justified in your actions, but sometimes people make choices because they feel like they have no other options—including the Cadre. King Tiernan is a vicious man, and you’ll need every ounce of strength you have to face him.

I wasn’t even strong enough to kill the captain, Saoirse, I say.

Perhaps not yet. Your ability is still very new to you.

You must learn to hone it and not drain your reserves so quickly.

That’s why you couldn’t defeat the captain—not because you’re incapable.

Plus, your swordsmanship is quite atrocious, my dear.

The General could help you—prepare you even, she replies.

I scoff. I don’t want his help nor do I need his training, I reply.

You might not have another choice, Saoirse says. From what I know of the Galrosan Demon King, his choices always end in bloodshed. You need to be ready to do whatever you must to survive. You are… special, Maeva. You’ve been selected by Siorai, which is a high honor.

I didn’t ask for any of this, I whisper. If being honored means losing everything I care about, then I don’t want it.

What else could I possibly give?

What else will be required of me to sacrifice?

How much farther can my heart possibly bend before it snaps?

I know, but it is your fate, replies Saoirse. Please, just think about all I have said. It’s late, and you need to rest.

Rolling into the pillow on that bumpy old cot, I ponder every tiny detail.

Every time I think I know what’s happening to me, something new walks into my path.

I’m sure there’s more that I must uncover, but why can’t I be told what will happen now?

Why must I find the answers alone? What purpose does Siorai have for me?

I wish just once the god would answer me… just this once .

Then, Saoirse’s idea about the High General teaching me not to drain my reserves causes my stomach to burn.

Can I trust the General to train me?

He already doesn’t like me very much, nor do I like him.

Plus, asking for his assistance would mean that I’d have to acknowledge that the captain almost killed me.

What if the General sees my failure as a weakness and decides to kill me anyway?

After all, the Cadre only believes I’m special for wearing the Dragon’s Flame pendant. Yet, any other group of men would be trying to come into this room right now. So far, there hasn’t been the slightest disturbance from any of them.

My eyes grow heavy, as one final thought crosses my mind: Perhaps they are not the monsters they appear to be…

That scares me the most.