At the same time, Kebé was actually sleeping for a change, knowing that General Isu was on night watch and would not let anyone, or anything near them. She slept through the first sneak attack, the clanking of metal on metal barely disturbing her. And she was right, as well. The General handled everything with characteristic efficiency. In fact, by the time Lavinia had woken from the noise, and stepped outside her tent, most of the enemies had fled, and the ones that were still there had had their heads neatly separated from their bodies and impaled on spears as a warning. They were the first sight to greet Lavinia, when she looked outside. The second one was Isu‘s face, between worry and annoyance as she informed her that she had somehow managed to faint, vomit and cover all the heads with ferns, all at the same time. She spent the two hours left of the night crying hysterically, after Isu har left her alone. How was she supposed to get through several weeks, if not months of this? The further they came, the more frequently they were attacked. In the beginning, strikes usually hit them at night, but as they started to march through the forest-clad mountains, orientation became more difficult, and enemies started dropping onto them from all sides, during the ride, at breakfast, lunch or dinner, or when they unloaded the carriages. The attacks were rarely successful, a piece of knowledge that did nothing to calm Lavinias anxiety. She flinched every time someone charged at them, screamed whenever anyone got too close and woke from nightmares every single morning, with tears running down her cheeks and alarming Zoya, who did her best to calm her. The problem was that she did not understand Lavinia at all. It was not only the threat of her own death, that upset her. That was not likely to happen anyways, with how strictly she was guarded. No, what got to her was the atmosphere, the violence surrounding her, the memories off the villages they had destroyed and the knowledge that there would be more. Every time she tried telling Zoya about this, she earned only vague confusion. Her friend was not as elite as the other soldiers, maybe, but she was a soldier. Destroyed villages did not trouble her, as long as they weren‘t theirs, and when presented with the stack of corpses they left behind wherever they went, she normally emphasized that they could have surrendered immediately and would have been spared if they did. „Would you surrender your home?“, Lavinia asked her. „No.“, she replied. „But I would gladly die defending it.“ There was no comfort to be found in her presence, and to make things worse the other soldiers, who had just started believing in her powers now distrusted her loyalty, observing every moment of weakness with suspicion. Even the Queen seemed to doubt her at times, Lavinia could feel her glances, when she thought she wasn‘t looking and she had upped the number of guards around her, who informed her about everything Lavinia did, said and thought. Even Zoya was reporting on her, she knew, and so it was only mildly surprising when she was informed that there was now a curfew for her, allegedly to keep her safe, and that she was to stay back with her guards during the attacks, officially to make things easier for her. Of course, they were also afraid of Lavinia ruining their plans with spontaneous outbursts.

That was precisely why, when they reached the first valley, hollowed by strong river currant, she was waiting nearby the mountains, together with two soldiers, while the town next to the water was being ravaged out of her sights. Her guards were clearly bored, sighing occasionally to express their anger at being stuck with her. She wold have liked to tell them that they also weren‘t her first choice of company, if only she had known enough of their language to do so. The silence was deafening and her thoughts drifted away, tracing the movements of the clouds moving above them, wishing to be up there with them, free to leave this terrible graveyard to be. She was so entranced that she did not hear branches cracking close to them, until one of the soldiers suddenly shoved her to the side, positioning herself in front just in time to parry the knife that was thrust at them. Lavinia only glimpsed a shadow of their attacker, before they moved away again, taking cover in the trees. The two soldiers were on high alert know, one carefully stalking towards the trees, while the other turned around, took two firestones from her belt and lit a little stick on fire, before holding it against one of the trees. An arrow shot out of nowhere, hitting her right above the collarbone and propelling he backwards. It was too late though, the tree had already caught on fire. Lavinia heard someone bellowing an order, in yet another language she did not understand, two figures storming at them. The taller one, a man, charged at them with a thin, silver blade. The soldier in front of her stopped his strikes almost effortlessly, his sword leaving his hand and falling onto the ground, only a few seconds faster than his lifeless body.The soldier turned around to her colleague, Lavinia following her movement, only to see the wounded soldier slide to the ground, blood running down from a cut across her throat. With a cry of rage, her guard lifted her sword, but this second attacker was smaller and faster than the other one, covered almost entirely in a white linen robe, only her eyes visible to them. She fought like she was dancing, avoiding one strike after the other, while placing smaller slashes with her knife across the guards arms and chest, whenever she found hole in her defense. The guard bravely fought one, ignoring her injuries and exhaustion, despite the fact she was clearly losing the fight and Lavinia just stood there, paralyzed with fear and almost certain she was going to die here. Then, there was a trampling of animals and heavy steps, in the distance at first, getting closer quickly, and just when the guard stumbled and fell she heard a voice, screaming her name and a tall silhouette appeared before her, shielding her from view. Zoya was running towards them as well, swearing when she saw the dead guards and rushing over to hug Lavinia, while the small shadow disappeared between the trees.

They doubled the nightshift for the next week, and while no one told Lavinia anything explicitly, she was well aware that on most nights the Queen was patrolling her tent personally. She was not allowed to leave it anymore, after the officers had unanimously agreed that this had been a targeted attempt at her life, rather than a regular ambush. She did not understand, why anyone would be interested in that. It did not matter, no one asked for her opinion. She was simply locked away, wrapped into a tent and a full unit of guards, as if she was made of glass, with no one coming in to talk to her for longer than ten minutes. News from outside were rare, and usually came in form of Zoya, if at all, with blood-smeared clothes and an air of triumph around her that told Lavinia they had massacred another part of the population. It pained her to think about and it pained her even more not to know. She felt like a coward, using her own ignorance to shirk her responsibility. She should probably stop this, and she knew that, but how was she supposed to, knowing that their enemy would use any weakness to do the same, or worse, to her own people?

Meanwhile, Kebé was feeling anxious. It was not an emotion she was used to, which made it even more uncomfortable. They had experienced several attacks since the incident, each one cutting a bit deeper that the last one. Of course, it was nothing her soldiers could not handle. Lavinia, on the other hand, was a whole different problem. She had been nothing but trouble since the march had begun, complaining to everyone who would listen about their way of waging war, fainting every now and then and posing a constant threat of interrupting their attacks with her uncontrolled magic. Her behavior had disappointed Kebé, who had hoped she would come to a more rational view of things after some time on a battle field. Clearly, the first use of her magic had not meant as much progress, as she had hoped and Lavinia was holding onto her naive worldview more stubbornly than anticipated. Even worse, she brought everyone down with her. Her arguments might not convince any soldiers, but her seemingly endless misery and inability to adjust lowered morale considerably and Kebé knew her troops felt slighted more than honored when they were supposed to guard her. And now, they needed a whole bunch of them to do so, because the enemy had, apparently recognized her as an important asset. How that had happened, Kebé was not sure. She had arranged for Lavinia to be dressed as unspectacularly as possible, and kept her away from anything that might trigger accidental magic to avoid suspicion and yet, that one fighter…They were almost sure, by now, that the foe causing so much unrest was always the same person. All of her soldiers had described them as small and agile, hinting at a woman, and had attested to her being unusually fast and calculated in her movements. She was presumably also the reason the general structure of enemy attacks had gotten far more complex, with better timing and more and more surprising methods, that had nearly caught them off guard this morning. In fact, some of them had gotten so far into their camp that Kebé had had to leave her place in front of Lavinias tent, and hunt them down herself. Wiping their blood from her blade had been a pleasure, even though none of the, were their mysterious adversary. She was too smart to let herself be caught that easily. Kebé‘s soldiers had mocked the First Elites tendency to sacrifice their own before, thinking it to be a sign of personal cowardice. Kebé was not so sure. After all, the woman had not been scared to directly attack Lavinia before. No, this was strategy. She knew exactly that she was to valuable to die. And in the end, that was what it came down to: Some people were so valuable that any sacrifice was reasonable, if it kept them alive. Kebé dropped her head into her hands with a frustrated sigh. Then she got up, returning to her nightly duty of protecting Lavinia, so she could sleep in peace. They had not told her, but Kebé was sure she could sense her presence, just like Kebé could sense hers. She needed to make sure she was not hurt, or killed in this. She needed to get her out of here.

The only question was how.

Little did she know that at the same time, a messenger was riding towards her, desperately willing his Ostrich to go faster while he crossed enemy territory, alone and unprotected, in order to deliver a letter to his Queen. He reached the supply caravan, just when the sun first kissed the sky, shoving the letter into the hands of the first soldier he encountered before both, he and his Ostrich, dropped to the ground in exhaustion. The letter made it‘s way through different hands, ending up in the heavily decorated fingers of one Major Akosua, which left it on the table next to the Queens breakfast. It was sitting there, swarmed by gossip and buzzing with energy, until she finally arrived, to grace it with her insight.

Cut off from the world as she was, Lavinia still realized something was off that day. It was noisier than usual outside and the soldier bringing her breakfast just didn’t appear, leaving her stomach rumbling and her mind intrigued. How was it that they made such a fuss around protecting her, from everything but themselves and then forgot about her entirely? It seemed unlikely. The air was full of unresolved tension, forming clouds and seeping into the air, poisoning it with frustration and anger. It rippled through Lavinia in waves, leaving her breathing heavily with a bitter taste on her gums. When the breakfast arrived, it was not a soldier carrying it. Instead, the Fourth Queen stepped into her space, carrying a tablet with bread and water and smiling in a way that seemed slightly less composed than usual. Lavinia had never thought she would get to see her of all people, acting insecure, and if she had thought about it she would have probably imagined it to be interesting, maybe even empowering to see someone so strong be human for once.

It was not. It was absolutely frightening, and Lavinia hated it with every fiber of her being.

The Queen sat down, cross-legged, sliding the tablet over so Lavinia could reach it.

„Lavinia.“, she began. It has been a long time since we had the chance to speak.“

„That is true“, she agreed, unable to stop her emotions from bleeding onto her tongue, staining her words. „We have not talked at length since you murdered my employer without my knowledge.“ She could see the Queen‘s face darkening with anger at her audacity, maybe deservedly so. She did not know. She knew nothing these days. So, she continued. „It might also have to do with the fact that you put me under house arrest, so I had a hard time seeking you out. Guess you were not interested in hearing anything other than your own voice for a while. Then again, I‘m not sure what I was expecting. Should have known this whole ‚ruling as equals‘ thing was a lie.“

„Enough!“ The Queen‘s hand hit the floor so hard, it made the glass shake, water drops hitting Lavinias cheek. „You have no right to talk to me this way.“

Another, younger version of herself would have backed down under the death stare she was given. Then again, a younger version of herself had also not seen as many corpses as she had. So she kept her head up, looking right back at the Queen. „Exactly.“, she replied with a fake smile. „As I said, equality is an illusion, you have all the power and I have no rights.“ She was prepared to be reprimanded. She was not prepared for the Queen to actually roar at her, throwing her hands up and standing up, to start walking frantic circles in the very limited space of her tent. „I am wasting my time with you. Just shut up, and listen for a minute, so I can get this over with before I kill you myself, and steal our mysterious assassin‘s work.“

Lavinia swallowed, but she stayed silent this time. She was still foaming at the mouth with indignation, yet the news might be more important than her personal situation.

r, they were blessings.