Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I was afraid of that. He might know nothing concrete, which complicates things. “What about Rangaista or the Old Gods? Did you see anything that might help us understand their nature, their limits?”
“You know their nature, Lovia, way better than I do. We’re just talking in circles now.” He pauses, eyes distant. “I’m not eager to throw in my lot with you either, but maybe that can change if I see I’m not just a prisoner here, if I see you’re at least willing to consider me as more than a hostage.”
I study his face. I see hints of sincerity—or maybe it’s a clever trick. He has been taught by a master manipulator, after all. But still, I get a sense that he’s lost, drifting. He had his entire worldview shattered. That can break a person…or open them to change.
“Rasmus,” I say slowly, “we’re on the brink of a battle unlike anything our realm has seen. If we fail, everyone loses—Louhi rules a realm of nightmares. If we succeed, maybe we build something better. If you help us, you might find a place in that better world.”
“A place, huh? You think I can just reinvent myself? What would I even be?”
I smile thinly. “That’s up to you. You could be many things, but I know you’re no longer your mother’s puppet.” I study his face for a moment, seeing Torben in his features. “Perhaps your place is getting to know your real father. I know you and Torben go way back, that he was your mentor in the Upper World, but it’s only recently you learned he was your true father. Maybe you being here is less about helping us and more about helping him.”
The torches in the corridor flicker, and the guards shift their weight impatiently. They probably wonder why I’m bothering to talk to him—because I must. Because as a general, I must consider all resources, all possibilities. Trusting Rasmus blindly would be stupid, but dismissing him could be a missed opportunity.
I stand, adjusting my sword belt. “I’ll leave you to think about it,” I say. “I’m not promising we’ll trust you overnight, but trust isn’t given freely; it’s earned. Show us you can be trusted, and maybe we’ll meet you halfway.”
He watches me go without a word, and I can feel his eyes on my back. Maybe I’ve planted a seed. Maybe he’ll try something cunning. I’ll be ready either way.
I stride down the corridor, the stone floor cold beneath my boots. The weight of my new responsibilities presses on my shoulders, but I feel a strange calmness. I may not be certain of what tomorrow brings, but I’m doing my part. I’m making decisions. I’m learning to trust myself as my father trusted me with this rank. The castle’s halls still feel haunted by old fears and old loyalties, but now, I carry a bit more confidence. I won’t let fear define me.
The corridor leads me back toward the main hall. Outside, the Star Swamp shimmers softly. My father is likely on some balcony or in a chamber, wrestling with his own doubts, perhaps confiding in the snowbird, but I know he won’t give in. Neither will I. We stand on a knife’s edge, and I must hold steady.
I let out a slow breath and move on. No matter what doubts I harbor, no matter what chaos lurks outside these walls, I will face it with everything I have. If that means growing into my new title, so be it. I may not be certain I’ll succeed, but I’ll do my damned best.
For myself, for my father, for all who depend on me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DEATH
Morning arrives, gray and cold, muffled by a gentle snowfall that hushes the world outside the castle walls. I stand in what now serves as my personal antechamber—a small room off the main hall—holding a cup of coffee close to my chest. The scent drifts upward, rich and warm, and for a moment, I let my eyes close and savor the aroma. This coffee is contraband, really. I had a general smuggle it down from the Upper World, a private indulgence I share with no one. Well, perhaps Lovia, if she asked. Which she thankfully hasn’t. The bitterness against my tongue reminds me of a time before all this madness. It’s a small pleasure amid so much uncertainty and despair.
Outside, the Star Swamp stretches beneath a blanket of delicate white flakes, the reeds bowed under the weight. All is still, but when you look closely, you can pick out all the troops below, camouflaged in the snow.
I drink slowly, letting the heat settle in my chest. I’ve already sent my snowbird off at first light. It darted into the pale sky without a sound, heading beyond the swamp to scout the lands. I never imagined relying on that tiny-toothed creature for reconnaissance, but times have changed. Every ally, every resource, must be used.