Page 126 of The Heir's Bargain

I scoffed. "I do not sense things, Moris. I listen to what my surroundings are telling me."

Rubbing his hands together near the flames, Moris shrugged. "Sounds like you sense it to me."

Out past the cave's entrance, leaves rustled as the wind swept through the woods. Goosebumps spread across my arms. I squinted at the shadows slithering between the trees as night fell. A breeze flew in, howling. The air ruffled our clothes and stirred the fire. The sun had begun its descent, and soon, we would need to blow the fire out. But until then, we needed to soak in its heat before the crisp breeze coated our uncovered skin as night fell.

Sylvia cleared their throat, bringing my attention back to the group. "It's cold up here because the atmospheric pressure is lower in the mountains, so?—"

"All right, all right," Moris said, cutting Sylvia off. "I get it, Sylv."

"What? You asked."

"Yeah, but listening to you is just making it colder."

"That's not possible," Sylvia said with a sigh. "In fact, the more talking there is, the warmer?—"

"Sylv," Moris whined.

Sylvia raised their hands. "Sorry for trying to educate you. I'll just shut up."

"Thank the gods," Moris sighed. "Pontanius himself could fall asleep to your educating."

Laughter filled our small circle. Even I couldn't help but crack a smile. But then Sylvia had to ruin it.

"Are you ever going to talk about it?" Sylvia asked, their attention turning to me.

"About what?" I asked, my smile fading.

Sylvia arched a brow.

I buried my chin into the crook between my knees and chest. "Do we need to discuss this right now?"

Sylvia looked around the cave. "What? Is there another way you would rather spend our time while we wait for dawn to rise?" Sylvia took a swig from the flask and passed it to Moris.

"Enough of this," I said, snatching the flask from Moris' hand. "We need to stay sharp. Don't we, Major Torian?" I asked Quint, hoping he would provide some resemblance of order—as a leader should.

Moris shrugged.

I shook the flask, but nothing echoed inside the container. Turning it upside down, a singly measly drop slipped out.

Empty.

I narrowed my eyes at Moris, whose eyes were already glass.

"Is that what this is about?" Quint asked after a moment.

"Is that what what is about?" I asked, tossing the flask onto the ground.

"This," Quint said, pointing at me before tugging his cloak tighter around him. "You've been acting cold this entire trip. Is it because of the promotion? If you care to know, I thought you would get it. I still think you deserved?—"

I shook my head and cut him off before he could push the knife further into the wound. "I am not upset because of the promotion, Quint."

"But you are upset, aren't you?"

I clicked my tongue, huggingmy legs. "I am not upset at all."

Sylvia snorted. "Don't let her fool you, Major. She is upset, but not at you."

"Then who?" Quint asked.

---