She grabbed his face between her palms and kissed him. “I am sorry,” she said against his lips. His chest rumbled. “You have been kind to me when I haven’t. I will never doubt your character again, ever.” She kissed him again, wanting to show him how much she loved him. How much she needed him. It wasn’t just a physical need. She needed to feel his love for her. Cheeks red as tomatoes, blood roaring in her ears…. She had never taken the initiative before… She broke the kiss. “Take off your tunic,” she said hoarsely. He obeyed her. She ran her hands over his chest, over the tattooed runes on his skin—his oath to her—over his hard pectorals, then lower, over his abdomen, and lower… He sucked in a breath, and she slid down to the floor. She unfastened his trousers, her gaze on his face. His eyes were full of lust. “Whatever is to happen, whatever hardship we will face, I want you to know that I love you. That you make me so very happy. That everything I do, I do it for us. For

After a quick breakfast, dressed in new clothes—clothes used by knights during their training—and, together with Kerra and Godefray, Ayla stepped outside the Fire Clan for her first day of training with Godefray. While Godefray hadn’t been happy with Kerra trotting after him and Ayla, he gave in when Rhobart told him it was best if Kerra accompanied them, since Godefray wanted Ayla to train in the forest. The forest was silent as Godefray, Ayla, and Kerra followed the tracks of a rabbit. Ever since they entered the forest, Godefray kept teaching Ayla different things—how to recognize which tracks belonged to a carnivore and which ones to a herbivore, how to know how fresh they were, how to move quietly, the basic symbols carved in the trees and so on. Ayla was trying to memorize everything Godefray was telling her, and he seemed unhappy with her when she asked him to repeat himself. A small bow made from cedar and maple and a quiver was on her back, while, on her right hip, she had

Something dark flashed in Godefray’s eyes. “All the things you said about that prophecy—I don’t believe a word! I hope that Rhobart will open his eyes in time and start preparing for war—war that will come once more from Myrthana. You and your family only brought death and destruction to Nordmar.” “Rhobart is my family.” Godefray folded his arms over his chest. “Just because you are his n’alxa doesn’t mean you are his family. I pray he won’t marry you and make you the Queen of Nordmar, because if that happens, I refuse to serve you.” He thought his words could hurt her? “Good. I don’t want to be your Queen either,” she said before turning her back on him and walking towards the Monastery. “Come, Kerra.” Ayla held her head high as she walked. She was not ashamed of who she was, and if Godefray insisted on not liking her, well, that was his problem. Of all of Rhobart’s Paladins, Godefray was the only one who refused to let her talk, lashing out at her each time he had the chance.

She started running fast, like the wind was pushing her from behind. Eude might have called after her, asking her to slow down, but she wanted to know, no, she needed to know what was at the end of the tunnel. When the tunnel turned to the left, Ayla used her hands to avoid slamming into the wall. She turned left and kept running. And running. The tunnel seemed endless. “Ayla! Stop running! There could be more undead things in the tunnel,” Eude yelled. She knew he was right, but for some reason, she needed to get to the end. There was something there, waiting for her. But what? How? A few minutes later, they reached a cavern that was at the end of the tunnel. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. The wall to the right cast a faint glow, Ayla was drawn to it the moment she laid eyes on it. Rania and the twins caught up with her. “Where’s the fire?” Eude mumbled. “I see that training with Godefray has been very effective,” Hudde complained. Ayla gave them an apologetic smile bef

On the night the Kingdom of Nordmar held its most important celebration, the Fire Clan was mourning all those that had lost their lives the previous night. The dead were placed on pyres in the courtyard. The biggest one was in the middle, the Arch-Mage Semias on top of it. His hair and beard had been combed and braided, and he had been dressed in a new robe. Those who had come to pay their final respects to the dead had put on grey clothes, ash in their hair, and painted their faces white—as was the custom in Nordmar. Ayla did the same. She and Rhobart had a few hours of sleep before the Mages set the pyres on fire. Rhobart, Ayla, the Paladins, and Milton stood next to the new Arch-Mage—a woman called Syndra. The Arch-Mage Semias had appointed her as his successor months ago. Rhobart held a torch in his right hand, and the new Arch-Mage Syndra lit it. “Tonight, we should have laughed and celebrated O’neltxero, but instead, we have gathered here to mourn our dead,” Rhobart said, loo