“And your horse would?”

Roan reached behind him and the gelding immediately placed his muzzle in Roan’s palm. “Kosmos? Without question.”

“What about your other horse, the one who looks like he’s part fur seal?”

He laughed. “Is that how you think of him? Duster has a disease that means he doesn’t shed, among other things. He’s getting old, but he was my first bonded horse. I got him when I was three years old.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “You learned to ride when you were three?”

Roan eyed me strangely, like maybe I was joking. “I could ride before I could walk, Nor.”

“Oh.” I rolled onto my back, staring up at the stars. I wondered what my life would have been like if I’d been born in Galeth instead of Varenia. I would have had my own horse like Titania, of course, and I would have been trained in combat rather than the art of wooing a husband.

“What were you and Adriel discussing earlier?” he asked. “I saw you talking by the river.”

“Medicine, mostly. She said she wants to make me her apprentice.”

Roan sat up a bit. “What, in Galeth?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He watched me for a moment. “And what do you think of that?”

A deep sense of exhaustion washed over me, and I released a heavy sigh. “I was raised to be beautiful, to be a good wife, to be a mother someday, perhaps.”

“What about what you want?”

I turned my face toward him. “I wanted to leave Varenia, to see the world and experience all it has to offer.” And in doing so, I had caused pain and hardship for the people I loved.

“Has that changed?”

“How can I think about what I want when I have to save my parents, to make sure that Ceren is stopped from hurting more people?”

“We all have things we have to do, Nor. But once everyone is safe, surely your parents will be able to look after themselves. Zadie has Samiel. And Talin and his mother and sister will be there to keep the kingdom safe.”

I considered his words for a moment. I had envisioned that future, yes.

“And in that case...” he continued “...what will you do?”

I closed my eyes, frustrated that he once again seemed to know what I was thinking. “I’m trying to take things one day at a time right now. I could be dead from an arrow tomorrow.”

“I’d never let that happen.”

I opened my eyes and turned to him. “Oh no? You’re going to prevent any possible harm from coming to me until I arrive safely in the south?”

I could see his jaw feathering in frustration. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know why you agreed to come.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I wondered if he had fallen asleep.

“I understand taking things one day at a time better than most,” he said softly. “After I left home to join the elite cavalry training, all I did was try to survive one day, and then the next, and the one after that. I didn’t think about my future or becoming the head of a fort. I didn’t like to think about the future at all.”

I waited, listening to the soft sounds of breathing coming from the other humans and animals around the fire. Roan didn’t seem to need anyone, but Adriel had said he felt emotions more strongly than most. Of course it would have been hard to leave his family.

“It’s obvious that Talin loves you, Nor. And if he does win this war and return to his life as a royal, I’m sure he will marry you and be happy to keep you at his side like the trophy you were raised to be.” There was nothing cruel in his tone, but I could feel tears at the back of my throat. “But somehow I don’t see that making you happy.”

“You have no idea what will make me happy,” I whispered.

“You’re right, Nor. I don’t. But the real question is, do you?”

* * *

Sometime that night, I dreamed of Ceren.

He was just a boy, but I recognized him immediately. He looked to be no older than ten, his white-blond hair brushing his shoulders. His skin was so fair he seemed translucent, like some deep-sea creature not made for the sunlight, which suited him well to life at New Castle. He was playing in what looked like a nursery, based on the toys surrounding him. He picked up a wooden practice sword and spoke to a child on the other side of the room.

Talin was a little smaller than Ceren, but not as much as he perhaps should have been considering he was two years younger. His hair was a mass of glossy brown curls, and his blue-green eyes cut quickly to Ceren before darting away. Ceren had asked him to play. And Talin had said no.

Ceren looked disappointed but not surprised. He rose from where he was sitting and went to answer the door. A beautiful young woman with olive skin and golden-brown curls falling to the small of her back stood in the shadows. Her green eyes instantly landed on Talin, a smile spreading across her face that seemed like sunshine itself.

Talin rose and ran to her, and she dropped to her knees to embrace him.

Ceren stood next to the doorway watching, no expression in his pale eyes. Talia rose and took Talin’s hand, leading him out of the playroom. Talin raised a hand to his half brother, but Ceren didn’t wave in return.

The door closed. A moment later, Ceren returned to the wooden practice sword, picked it up with his long, delicate fingers, and beat it against the wall until it broke in two.

When he was finished, Ceren sat down on the floor of the playroom. His cheeks were pink from the exertion of destroying the sword, and purple bruises were blooming on his arms where he’d inadvertently struck himself, but his gray eyes were just as empty as they had been before.

As the dream faded, I woke with cold tears snaking down my cheeks. I understood now why Talin had refused his brother; Ceren was so delicate that he was likely not allowed to play with the wooden swords. And he wasn’t allowed to go wherever it was Talin had gone with his mother, either.

Roan was awake and watching me. I wondered if I’d made some noise in my sleep. I wanted to get up and leave, my tears threatening to spill over, but I was afraid I’d wake the others.

“Nightmare?” Roan mouthed to me.

I nodded, because it was simpler than the truth: that what I had seen was likely one of many similar memories Ceren had from his childhood. The visions had been disturbing enough, but this was far worse. Because even after all the terrible things he had done, I had seen a small glimpse of what had shaped him, and how could I want to kill someone who had been so broken inside from such a young age?