Mildred simply stares.
Hector shrugs. “Then it’s settled. They will go with us.”
Cenric plops a winter berry in his mouth. “Are we giving the Kyanite a sword?”
The Kyanite?
Must he insist on calling me that?
I link my hands together and speak boldly. “My name is Sol.”
A wide grin stretches across Cenric’s face as he plops another berry into his mouth. “Truly? I didn’t know.”
Everly rolls her eyes at him.
“We need every available sword,” Hector says, his words even yet firm. “So, yes, we will give Sol a weapon.” He turns to me. “Sol, give the baby to Leah.”
I tighten my grip around the bundle in my arms. “He’s safe with me.”
Hector holds out his hands. “Leah is the most adept warrior. She’ll keep the child and Nahlia with her and protect them.”
“What he means to say,” Leah says dryly, “is that I’m the most adeptfemalewarrior. None of the men want to be left with a baby.”
Hector shrugs.
For a breath, I clutch Edvard closer, smelling his baby smell, feeling the warmth from his tiny body, then I comply, handing Edvard to Hector. He quickly hands the child to Leah. She smiles down at the baby and tucks the blanket around him.
She glances between the baby and the wet nurse. “Now, I really am playing the role Luc always wanted for me.”
Luc smiles at his sister. “You are a natural, Leah.”
She picks up a piece of bark and tosses it at her brother—smacking him square in the chest with it.
“Ouch.” He feigns pain as he rubs his chest. “Must you be so violent?”
As I move toward my tent to collect my meager belongings, I spot Everly and Cenric. He pulls her near the shadow of a wagon and says something too low for me to understand. She raises her chin and fires back. Before he can finish his next sentence, she skirts around him and heads toward the center of the camp.
“Everly!” he says, his tone desperate.
She lifts her chin even higher and continues her trek. Frustration flares across his face as he crosses his arms and watches her, as if he’s unwilling to look away.
I shake my head and step into my tent. Hector follows and settles the flap in place, giving us a moment of privacy.
“Sol.” He takes my hands and shifts me to face him. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Determination fortifies me as I speak. “I can fight.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He caresses the curve of my cheek, his touch gentle, stirring. “I only worry about your safety.”
“Hector.” I offer him a reassuring smile. “Nothing will happen to me.”
He grazes his knuckles along my jawline. “Just don’t take any unnecessary risk.”
“I won’t.”
I look up at him, taking in the emotions seething behind his eyes. Maybe he thinks he disguises it, but I feel it in my bones. It might be the work of the binding tattoo, but I’m convinced that even without it, I would feel his anger. His need for vengeance. His silent promise to annihilate all the Malachites who destroyed Tarra.
Frankly, the knowledge scares me. The lethality inside him.
