Book 3: Chapter 61: A Bridge to Nowhere
The Duchess’s white mare had just begun to settle into her new position, leading at the front of the organized swarm of Bastiallano's cavalry knights and the royal procession guarded safely within their ranks. Carina’s amused smile faded as every minute brought them closer to the lurking danger ahead she both dreaded and longed for.
After a mere three weeks, she still couldn’t shake the startling weight of her responsibilities as both Duchess and Commander of these knights, who seemed only too willing to follow her into the waiting trap ahead. But these soldiers were more than just numbers that made up units and companies, they were men, living and mortal, and—there was a genuine chance some of them would die out here among the verdant fields of wildflowers that curved beneath the swaying eastern green pines, red oak, and paper birch trees.
‘Strange. Every day since coming to Lafeara has been a constant battle to avoid danger—yet here I am leading an army toward a battle that I have no way of predicting the outcome of.’
Carina couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment it had happened, but—sometime after meeting Viktor and accepting the magic of his immortal heart—the crippling fear of death that had haunted her almost as long as Maura's spirit had, appeared to have faded.
‘I’m still mortal, but also a witch, one with enough magic that hopefully makes me harder to kill.’
The Duchess gave herself a mental shake. While thinking of death when facing battle made sense, it would do her little good to lose focus now. She strained her eyes, then searched for her scriva hawks above, connecting to one to gauge the distance left before they reached the bridge and its waiting ambush.
‘Still no sign of either fire witch. As much as I’d like to think they went back to Ventrayna if their target was Eleanora, they won’t give up this last opportunity so easily.’
The ping of the second scriva hawk pulled Carina’s attention back to the bird's eye view of the forest directly around them. She spotted the blurred figure that streaked beneath the tree branches, barreling in their direction, and quickly raised her hand in a fist as she disconnected.