Chapter 515: Scars and Promises (1)
The sun had begun to settle behind the scorched silhouette of Varzadia’s broken gates, staining the camp an autumn orange that made every torn banner look briefly like dying leaves. Lyan paused on a rise of rubble that used to be the guard-house parapet, hands braced on his knees, and let the whole vista soak into his bones. Broken walls, tents pitched in wild angles, cook-fires smoking where marble fountains had once sprayed scented water. The hush was uncanny. He could still feel where cannon-runed ballista bolts had screamed over this exact spot two nights ago, feel the phantom tremor of cavalry charging past, but the only noise now was the dry flap of canvas and the distant jangle of harness buckles.
His body didn’t know what to do with quiet. Muscles twitched, expecting the next alarm. Even the spirits were subdued—Griselda’s usual crackle lay soft as banked coals, Cynthia’s calm a deep, watchful stillness.
He ran a thumb across the edge of his breastplate, finding faint ridges where lightning had rebounded earlier that day. He should have asked a farrier to straighten them, but there had been queens to hide and shadows to bind. Priorities.
A soft whistle cut through the glow. Josephine strolled up the slope, hands tucked behind her head as if she were admiring a sunset over vineyards instead of the smoking carcass of a metropolis. Her curls were tied back with twine; soot streaked her laugh-lined cheeks.
"Still breathing? Disappointing." The smack she delivered to his chest was light but rang off metal like a hammer on a bell.
Lyan made a show of staggering. "That’s how you welcome the returning hero?"
She peered up at him—she was half a head shorter, but her grin always made her feel taller. "Hero? I thought you were just the walking disaster we follow for entertainment."
He tried to laugh and found his throat had gone dry. "There were... complications."
"I know. I counted the scorch marks." She leaned closer, voice dropping. "You got the royals tucked away?"
"Safe enough." His eyes flicked reflexively toward the palace ruins, though from here the hidden stairs were invisible. "For now."
"Good." She bounced on her heels. "Because your other headaches are waiting." She jerked her chin toward the lower camp meadow.