A Cruel Kindness

Chapter 11

Bellamy

If I hadn’t been forced to sit through painfully boring parties and meetings and luncheons while suffering a headache or a stomach bug, I may well have thrown up into one of the buckets Peter had lined up on either side of us, wedged into the dirt.

I whipped around quickly, then tripped as my boot caught in the muddy ground underneath me. I stumbled back into a warm, hard force—surely Soren’s chest.

I let his hand band around my waist. I had more pressing matters. The Bridge on this side, on Muli, wasn’t the industrial, ominous doors that we’d stepped through to get here.

It was nothing more than a small cave, shaded by thick bushes, covered in vibrant orange, purple, and white flowers. They covered the entire sides of the cave, moving up to frame it in a mass of color.

To anyone who wasn’t aware of the power it held, you’d think it was the random formation of the hillside, entirely ordinary. My gawking was interrupted by an arrival of another Match, sauntering out of the cave with ease, not even hinting at any side effects from the Cross.

Over the week, I’d learned who they were. Two women who were as close as sisters born from the same womb, connected by a large rose tattooed into their side. They were paranovs —though someone had told me that their Match was actually about ninety-eight percent.

The taller one, with short black hair and a kind smile, nodded at me as she walked past us with her sister.

Following their movements is what made me finally turn around, to acknowledge my surroundings. Soren let me go, perfectly in tune with what I wanted.

I couldn’t look at him yet. Not after that.

Thankfully, I had the excuse of rapidly taking in my new reality. A planet I’d only heard tales of, yet was now firmly beneath my feet.

Beautiful was the first thought to come to mind.

I didn’t think we had anything like this in the wide range of climates on Vir. This was something entirely unique. Special.

The air was crisp and clean, so much so it almost burned to breathe in. We were standing in somewhat of a meadow, with soft, bright green grass that brushed my mid-calf. Wildflowers bloomed across the entire expanse of land, dotting my vision with bursts of color.

Behind the meadow, tall, strong mountains rose from the ground, coming together in snow-capped peaks. The sun was shining bright, brighter than I’d ever felt it.

I was used to seeing it high in the sky, but not this big. It made everything look sharper, more impactful.

“Welcome to Muliterra, princess,” Soren said, whispering the words close to my ear. My heart seized in my throat, the soft caress of his voice against the shell of my ear lighting a fire across my skin.

I turned to him slowly, dreading what I’d find when our eyes connected for the first time on this planet.

My head rose first, my eyes staying down for a second before I blinked up and collided with Soren’s gaze. I didn’t think he looked any different.

It was me who felt different.

Something had happened to us when we Crossed. There had always been a constant, if not mildly threatening, undercurrent of awareness from the Bond. It felt like a standard comfortableness in his presence. Not something I actively craved, and really should never want, but was just always there, never managing to irritate me.

Now that feeling had bloomed into an all out want.

My heartbeat kicked up, urgency pumping in my limbs to make sure that he was safe, that he was right next to me, that he was within arm's reach.

God damnit.

I tried to reach for that rage and annoyance that felt so easy to access, for the lie I told myself that I really did find it annoying when he watched me with a singular focus whenever I was sparring someone.

I’d messed up more than I cared to admit from that stare.

Soren blinked, reminding me that I had spent a considerable number of seconds simply staring at him.

Though when I pulled back slightly, I realized that he was staring at me, too.

And that his arm was banded around my back, pulling me flush to his chest.

His gaze fell to the hollow between my collarbones before climbing back up my face, snagging briefly on the space between my nose and chin.

When he reached my eyes again and found me lucid, he took a slow step back. “Well,” he drawled, a grin blooming on his face. “At least you didn’t throw up. You look a little rattled, though.”

“That was quite the journey,” I tried to joke, but my voice was void of all humor. I sounded far too serious. Even … breathy.

Soren chuckled under his breath. “Get used to it. First of many.”

Releasing me quickly, Soren took off away from the Bridge.

I ran after him, forced to confront the rest of my surroundings. The cave we’d stepped out of was actually the lowest point of the surrounding area. The camp in front of me rose on a gentle slope, doing the same on the other side of the valley where the cave sat, quickly constructed wooden buildings and tents scattered through the greenery.

I could hear the bubbling, crashing sounds of a river somewhere, and my gaze snagged on a few wooden bridges off to my left. My eyes drifted further to a long structure—stables, I’d imagine.

I didn’t even think I was blinking as I tried to absorb everything as quickly as possible. Soren was stomping up the hill towards a massive wooden structure, the only building that looked like it had been constructed without haste.

I picked up my pace to catch up with Soren while my focus remained on the smattering of small buildings dotting the hillside and trickling into the thick forest behind. There were tents and small cabins, and I imagined those cabins were reserved for the longer serving—

“Oh!” I gasped, though it was really more of a garbled sound of surprise as I tripped over an exposed root on the ground, stumbling forward. I managed to regain my composure and stay standing moments before I tipped over and earned a face full of mud.

“I knew it was going to be the fucking branches,” Soren bit out, the venom in his tone making me straighten on instinct.

“Excuse me?” I snapped, not at all pleased with his tone.

Soren blinked, his face clearing of anger. He dragged his hands down his face, and when he dropped them, he looked considerably more pleasant. Good. “I had this thought when Peter first told me about you—before I knew it was you —that I would try to kill a branch if you ever tripped over it.”

Oh.

Well.

You should let him light it on fire. That sounds warm , the Bond decided to jump in. The first time it decided to speak to me on this side of the Bridge and it sounds like a pyromaniac. Cute.

More than the shock at what Soren said, I was taken aback by his brutal honesty. “Th-thank you. For explaining,” I stuttered out.

Soren just dipped his chin once, then extended his hand to me.

I hesitated, which made him say, “Don’t be dramatic. Hold my hand so you can look at everything.”

The problem was, I felt slightly too raw to touch him right now. But my desire to absorb my surroundings as quickly as possible, desperately trying to regain some footing, outweighed the fear.

Slowly, I stepped forward and slipped my hand in his. The second his fingers slipped through mine and curled up to rest on the back of my palm, my hand started pulsing.

Heat started slipping up my arm, growing further with each pulse, like waves climbing up the sand as the tide rose.

Oh, God help me. Well, I guess now that I was on Muli, I should really be praying to the Goddess for help.

Soren turned slowly, his hand squeezing mine. I didn’t know if he was even aware he’d done it. I forced myself not to focus on him, to try to go back to taking in Muli.

My gaze was slightly blurrier than it was before, but it was clear enough that I could pay attention. People were slowly trickling out of tents and cabins, called out by our arrival. As far as I could tell, they all looked to be from Vir.

Not that I’d ever met someone from Muli.

There was no real difference between our two planets. We spoke the same language, with only a slight accent to set us apart. Vir ended their words a bit harsher, making sure to enunciate, whereas Muli spoke with a more flowery tone that sometimes drowned out the pronunciation of certain letters.

The only thing that was different physically was that people from Muli were generally a bit taller, a bit bigger. It was a wildly unreliable way to judge between planets, especially when there was a hulking man holding my hand who was likely taller than most—regardless of which planet you called home.

Those who hadn’t Crossed were slowly trickling towards the main building in front of us, whereas those who had were approaching in pairs.

I looked behind me to see the two women who’d Crossed after me and Soren smiling widely, arms linked as they joked about something between themselves. Looking over Soren’s shoulder, I saw Ford and Esme walking next to each other, though there was a good three feet separating them.

I really needed to ask Esme how she quieted the Bond, because I’d go fucking crazy if I had it shrieking in my head all the time, with no relief to be found.

It took us another handful of minutes to climb to the softly slopping hill, during which I did my best to acclimate myself to my new reality and ignore the fact that there was still a base of terror threading through my body. There was a slight possibility that Soren’s touch was chasing away that fear, but that would be unwise to entertain.

After a set of steps that took so long to climb my legs started to burn, we’d made it to the main building. It looked more like a cozy inn tucked into the mountainside than the headquarters of a military operation.

It was more cared for than the base back on Vir. Simple, yes, but with a greater respect for aesthetics than the stripped down, functional design I was used to.

As Soren and I stepped through the doors, that difference only became more clear. The ceilings were high, supported by wooden beams and wrapped in soft lights that cast the room in a pleasant glow.

There was the same general layout as the base, with long dining tables and a malleable space that could fit every purpose, but all of the furniture was warm and wooden rather than the frosty metal I’d learned to deal with.

Still holding my hand, Soren pulled me toward the front of the room. I damn near tripped over myself when I passed by the kitchen, my nose filled with something that was rich and spiced.

Everything was so much … brighter here.

A distant pulse of envy and disappointment clenched my stomach tight. Things could have gone so differently. Our two worlds could have used the Bridge for trade, for swapping our planet’s individual wonders, rather than War.

Due to our harsher climate, Vir was blessed with rarer gemstones and stronger metals that made near-indestructible alloys. We had flora and fauna that were unique in their beauty and ability to thrive in environments that didn’t foster growth.

In just a few short minutes, I could tell that Muli was home to a cohesive, easy ecosystem that could have provided us with a share of food and other goods unique to their planet.

I didn’t know what to believe anymore—there were too many lies to sort through. I didn’t know who was the enemy and who was the victim, but I did know that it didn’t need to be this way.

The Bridge didn’t have to be used for death.

Before I could let that thought fully manifest, I forced myself out of my head. The first thing I noticed was the warm press of Soren’s leg against mine.

Oh. I guess we were sitting now. I had just let Soren lead me to our seats without a care in the world.

It was like my mind came back into my body through that one touch, originating there before slowly slipping through the rest of my limbs.

Everything was more intense on Muli, and the Bond was apparently no different. We really needed to have a conversation about boundaries or something because this simply wouldn’t do.

As more people threaded into the bench next to us, pushing me, Soren, Esme, and Ford closer and closer to the wall, it crushed us all together. Ford and Esme looked stiff as boards, absolutely refusing to back down from their perfect posture and respectable distance from one another.

Soren and I were forced to be the malleable ones. After several seconds of our shoulders slipping against each other, trying to find a spot where his bones weren’t right on top of mine, Soren eventually cursed under his breath, “Goddess help me.”

He lifted my arm, threaded his through the space between it and my midriff, and returned me to straights before I’d even fully processed that he was touching me.

The damage was done. Our arms were intertwined. Soren’s hand was on my knee.

I swallowed thickly, desperately trying to focus on the front of the room through hazy eyes.

I saw someone approach, but I didn’t place who they were until they spoke.

“Welcome,” Peter said, and I was shocked to see him here. Through the many rounds of briefings we had been forced to sit through over the last few days, I didn’t think he’d mentioned that he would be joining us.

“Woman off to the side, mid-forties. They’ve been Matched about fifteen years. Parocts, ” Soren’s voice supplied, the words dropping close to my ear.

I turned my head, leaving the rest of my body still, which brought our faces dangerously close together. “That’s a long time for a Match in the eighties.”

Soren’s lower lip briefly pushed out in agreement. Did he really have to have that full of a lower lip? That was just unfair. “It’s high eighties. He’ll probably get a discharge in the next few years, but he’s fine for now.”

I hoped that was true. It was obvious that Peter had stepped in as somewhat of a father figure for Soren in the last six years. Regardless of my own torrid relationships with my parents, I couldn’t imagine losing them both at eighteen.

“Thank you,” I whispered back, subtly acknowledging that he’d answered my silent question.

When I focused back on Peter, I realized I’d missed the rest of his introduction, though I was sure it was only a quip about someone throwing up that I’d failed to hear. “You’ll be getting your assignments from your captains at the end of the day. Some of you veterans might be put on a patrol tonight, but for the rest of you, you have two days to get settled and shake off your sea legs, then there are no excuses.”

“I might get pulled. If I do, I’ll take you with me,” Soren whispered in my ear, easily supplanting the lecture with things I was planning on asking him about anyway. Something new slipped on top of the tightness in my stomach, a balm of something sweet and warm over the fire.

He was just being helpful. He could be a nice man under all that gruff attitude and bloodlust for all I knew. That was likely the truth, and yet a horrible part of me wanted to believe that he was doing it because he knew me already, knew that I was someone who liked to know what was going on, even if I was just silently listening.

I was quieter by nature, though most people had considered that a sign of weakness or something that was forced upon me by circumstance.

The truth was that there was more value in silence than people cared to acknowledge. I had achieved far more by staying patient, by taking the sly way around rather than barreling through like a bull.

“Dinner with your unit tonight,” Peter said from the front of the room. “In the meantime, I suggest getting settled. That does not mean laying around in your bed. Go check on your gear, your horse, or decide to be helpful and get ahead on your duties. That should be fun enough.”

“Some of us have more fun in bed!” someone interjected from the back of the room, a laugh in their voice.

Knowing chuckles followed, and I looked over my shoulder to find a considerable number of people huddled against their Match with secret smiles on their faces.

Right.

Though a close, sibling like relationship was certainly common for Matches, there were just as many who took the romantic route and probably snuck away to maul each other every chance they got.

How ridiculous, that the two Soul Matches barely touched each other. Well, that wasn’t quite true with me and Soren. We were just choosing to ignore the urge to wrap around each other.

You don’t have to , the Bond offered. I shoved it away as if I could put my two hands on its chest and do it myself. Those were dangerous thoughts that I couldn’t entertain.

With great knowledge came great responsibility and all that. Though that conviction seemed to grow weaker by the second, telling myself I could have both.

I couldn’t. I needed to remain clear-headed and unattached.

Peter, surprisingly, laughed in response to the interjection. “We know, Young. No one can scrub the sound of your yelp from their memory.”

A shocked laugh bubbled out of my throat before I could stop it.

“You’re welcome!” another, more feminine voice sprang through the room. Young’s Match, I’d imagine.

Peter’s mouth curved into a rare smile. “Go on, then. Before Young and Kent start making a scene.”

The room erupted, everyone scurrying towards the exit.

It wasn’t until I took three steps toward the door that I realized I was holding Soren’s hand again, almost like it was a given.

If he noticed my shock, his only answer was to sweep his thumb over the back of my palm.

It took five minutes from stepping back out in the bright light to get to our cabin. In the short walk, I learned that I’d be joining Soren in his cabin—but of course.

When I’d chuckled and made a comment about him getting preferential treatment, he said, “I’m not special. It’s simply time. If you’re here longer than five years, you get a cabin.”

He was right, it might have even been a slight curse. We walked well into the thick forest, too far if you ask me, and over a small bridge that traversed a rushing river to find a cabin nestled in between towering trees.

It was bigger than I thought it would be. I expected a cramped tent with Soren, filled with the oppressive, distracting smell of him.

We were standing in front of a solid structure, wider than it was tall, with a small wooden porch that seemed like a gift. Especially when so few things were dedicated towards comfort and beauty in war.

“You guys get the left side,” a voice called from behind me. I turned to find Esme walking towards us with unnatural grace, like she was gliding over flat land rather than the muddy, uneven ground.

Ford wasn’t far behind her, scowl firmly on his face as he carried two bags over his shoulder. For a second, I thought he was carrying Esme’s bag for her until I realized that she had two of her own.

“Equipment,” Esme supplied easily. I really was thankful to have her here. Though I didn’t know how I felt about bunking up with them.

“Our stuff is in there, too,” Soren said, his breath coasting over the shell of my ear.

“What for?” I asked back, only noticing too late how close together our lips were.

“Go inside. Look around. Then we’ll all sit on the floor together and chat,” Soren said with a grin.

I pushed him away with two hands planted on his chest. Soren stumbled back, which was entirely his own choice. No matter how skilled I was, I wasn’t strong enough to move someone as big as him.

With a laugh under his breath, he scooped up my bag and moved easily up the stairs and into the cabin, veering immediately to the left. I might have looked at the way his legs flexed while he did it.

I had to do something to appease the Bond. It was currently prowling back and forth in my head like a caged animal.

My eyes were still on the door when Ford walked through, leaving me and Esme outside alone.

“You know, no one will fault you for giving in,” Esme said, and I turned to find her leaning casually against the banner of the steps. She had an easy confidence in her posture, relaxed even.

“I can’t,” I said in weak defense.

Esme took a step towards me, her eyes lighting with curiosity. “Why not?”

I almost told her. My mouth opened to explain why, but I stopped myself at the last minute. I imagined she kept enough secrets, she didn’t need mine on top of them. Instead, I said, “I imagine for similar reasons as you.”

It was half response, half question.

Esme chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “I don’t have reasons.”

“What?” Then why did she and Ford stay away from each other? I didn’t believe they hated one another. I didn’t think the Bond would allow that.

Esme’s smile turned … sad. “The Bond doesn’t speak to me. To Ford either.”

“ Why ?” I mean it was annoying at times, but it felt like an inseparable part of me after a few short days.

Esme shrugged, though something about it seemed forced, a little sharp. “Ford rejected the Bond. Never manifested for either of us.”

“Wha— how ?” I stuttered out. That seemed impossible. Looking back on it, I could have sworn I felt the Bond, though much quieter and hidden, well before I’d walked myself down to that temple and had the priestesses pull out my Mark.

It was a shock to realize that I recognized the Mark— my Mark—but if I was honest with myself, I never felt surprised when I found out it was Soren.

Esme smiled, though it looked forced. “Story for another day.” She tipped her chin up and over her shoulder. “Get settled. We’re unfortunately the favorites around here, so you won’t get a chance after tonight.”

I wanted to ask so many more questions, but I could tell that Esme had kindly changed the subject. I’d respect that, despite my curiosity.

Once I took a step forward, Esme took leave to turn and shoot up the stairs on quick legs, disappearing into the cabin.

I was slower to move, my steps more measured, my hand trailing up the sanded wood of the bannister. I never had a chance to take in my new reality back on the base. I was shoved into everything unceremoniously.

I wanted to appreciate it this time.

My eyes adjusted to the light as I stepped over the threshold, finding a open space that I was sure was supposed to be a living room and kitchenette of sorts.

Instead of plush furniture, the room housed one long couch and a desk, but was otherwise filled to the brim with equipment.

Ford was crouching on the floor, putting together a long rifle that looked so precise it made my stomach clench in fear. Esme was at the back wall, running through the small kitchen like a tornado, opening cabinets and drawers with a clear purpose in mind.

I guessed they had a routine, what they needed to check and do right on arrival. I was still a fumbling mess trying to hold on for dear life.

No one really told me what my role here was supposed to be. From listening in on conversations over the last week, I’d gleaned that Soren and Carson were strategists, relied on to judge the success of a plan or formulate one themselves.

Esme was a spy—though she’d be hard pressed to admit it. Ford was a sniper. And he would be hard pressed to admit that their dynamic fit quite well. I was sure Esme stepped into enemy territory constantly, with Ford hiding in the bushes watching her every move through a scope.

Feeling unease curl through my stomach, I did the only thing I knew how to do to deal with it—move forward despite it. I kept walking to the left, following Soren’s scent like a wolf tracking prey.

If I focused on it too long, I felt utterly ridiculous that I could know it was him by scent alone. I chalked it up to the Bond.

He smells yummy, it said, almost in answer to my thoughts.

I shoved it away as I stepped over the threshold of the room that would serve as my bedroom, yet another situation where I’d be forced to share a bed with Soren so the Bond wouldn't throw a tantrum. I wouldn’t be surprised if the beds were already pushed together.

I’d woken up this morning with Soren against my back, his hand wrapped around my midriff like he was scared I was going to leave him.

“Oh my God, Soren!” I yelled as soon as I realized what was in front of me, the bare skin of Soren’s chest shocking me as much as a bright light in my eye.

His only answer was to laugh, the sound rich and deep, while he continued to fold his clothes.

I should be covering my eyes with my hands. That’s what normal people did when they were confronted with something they didn’t want to see. The problem was, I did want to see it.

It was too late to do anything now, so I straightened my spine and attempted to appear unbothered.

I walked toward the bed—the shared bed. “Did you and Carson share when you were here?” I asked before I could think not to.

Luckily, Soren’s grin widened an inch further. “I pushed them together while you were taking your sweet time outside. Broke a sweat. Took my shirt off.”

“You aren’t as strong as you’d like people to believe if you broke a sweat from that.”

“Person,” Soren responded, his eyes still on his neatly folded stack of clothes.

My eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“I only care about how strong one person thinks I am.”

“Who? Your mommy?” The jab fell from my tongue lightly, without thought. That only seemed to happen with him.

“You.”

A blush warmed my cheeks immediately. Not necessarily from the sentiment, but from the way his voice had dropped low and rough. “Well,” I said, when I regained my composure. “I must admit that I walked right into that one.”

Soren didn’t laugh, though I’d expected him to. Instead, he walked toward me, and it only took one stride of his long legs to reach me. There was a moment where I almost ran away, panic rose into my throat so quickly.

Something kept me rooted to the spot, allowing Soren to walk right up to me, our bodies so close together I felt static spark between our skin. He paused for a second, looking at my face with careful observation.

After a moment, I felt something brush my cheek. It felt like the soft caress of the back of his fingers, but I didn’t dare look down. I watched as the corner of his lip jumped up as his skin coasted over mine, surely amused by how heated my cheeks had become.

“How loud is it?” Soren said, his voice so low and rough it took me a second to realize that he was speaking.

The Bond answered with an indiscriminately pleased scream in my head, banging against the confines of my mind in unbridled joy—just because Soren was touching me.

The warmth in my cheeks went nowhere as I responded, “Loud.”

For a moment, Soren’s eyes went soft, his expression bordering on pity before he regained control of himself. No matter how badly I wanted to, I would not be returning his question. I didn’t think I had enough self control to resist his answer.

The softness cleared almost as quickly as it had formed, his easy, if not cocky, disposition returning. “We had a deal,” he reminded me. Maybe even reminded himself.

“I know. I can handle it.” It felt like a lie, but I said it anyway. I wasn’t known for my self-sacrificial qualities, but I couldn’t ignore what I’d discovered. Couldn’t sit there and watch plans that would destroy lives and planets continue moving forward.

Soren hesitated, his eyes tracing over every inch of my face. After a moment, it seemed like he forced himself to move past me, though our arms brushed as he did so.

That innocent brush of skin sent heat lashing through my body so quickly, my body moved on its own accord. My hand shot out, latching on to his wrist as he took a step away from me, finding it without sight.

His pulse picked up, slamming against my fingers where they pressed into his wrist, right next to the strong tendon that ran up his forearm. I didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that my fingers barely touched around his wrist.

“Bell,” Soren all but growled, warning clear in his tone.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, ripping my hand from his arm. The Bond was none too pleased with me, yelling a rather creative string of expletives in my head for not giving it what it wanted.

Please , I begged internally. The Bond was a simple creature, only caring about what it wanted right now. Unfortunately, life wasn’t that simple.

I made myself take a step away from Soren, and watched him run his hands down his face in frustration. He rolled his shoulders back, stretching out his neck as if that was necessary to reset himself.

“Alright, I’m going to leave,” he said decidedly. Poor phrasing, as the Bond started screaming again. Soren blinked once, as if he could hear the screeching himself. “I need to talk to Peter about our assignments.”

“Okay,” I responded through a hoarse voice. “Just—”

“I’ll fill you in,” Soren said, finishing my thought. “But I think we need some space.”

We really did. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, only making me aware of Soren’s presence and the bed behind us.

Goddess help me, tonight was going to be brutal.

“Go,” I said, my voice weaker than I cared to acknowledge.

Soren’s feet stayed rooted to the spot for several seconds, though his body seemed like it was trying to move toward the door. I watched, trying to restrain the urge to beg him not to go, as he curled his fists and forced himself to leave.

I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, until I heard his boots on the stairs outside.

When I was sure he was gone, my chest collapsed in on itself, my breaths entering my lungs in pained pants.

This couldn’t be normal. I didn’t care that Peter had warned us of exactly this outcome, this couldn’t be right.

My chest felt like it was splitting open, like my sternum was separating from my ribs from the force of my heart beating. For a second, I felt like I couldn’t breathe at all, like Soren had left and taken my oxygen supply with him.

I stumbled toward my pack, needing some tangible reminder of why I was doing this before I threw caution to the wind and sprinted after Soren.

My hands were shaking as I wrestled with the zipper, then tucked inside the hidden compartment and pulled out the stack of letters I’d brought with me.

They were copies of the originals, transcribed in my own handwriting under candlelight in the dead of night, before they were safely tucked away back into the false bottom of my father’s desk.

My hands were stained with ink for weeks as I replicated them, tucking a set away in my bedroom vanity, in my floorboards, and in the belongings I would eventually take with me to the Bridge.

The very same copies I was unfolding now, trying to read through blurry vision obscured with building tears.

Certain words broke through, weaseling their way past my bleary eyes.

Peace.

Negotiations.

Final warning.

Peace.

I didn’t even really need to read them to know what they contained. To be reminded of the treason and betrayal contained in those letters.

I still didn’t know whether Muli was the one to start this war, if the stories of their greed were to be believed. If my father was right. If he was, that meant I’d be walking down an even more terrifying path than the one I was on now, and that was one of high treason.

All I knew was that ten letters sat in my hands, each containing a plea for peace from Muli’s Royal family, begging for any resolution to this conflict. I’d find a way to get these to them, to prove that it was my father’s actions, not Vir’s, that kept this war going.

Even if it killed me.