“We are not sure,” Dex admitted. “Those who might help us are… scattered.”
Ignatius blinked, reevaluating. “Oh dear. I will think on that. But you will have my assistance, regardless.” A grim, haunted look flashed over his face. “Too many of our brethren died to save this world for me to refuse to help you now.” He gave me a nod as if acknowledging a pain we both shared.
Instead of driving home the truth that was killing my soul.
For years, I feared I might be the only scholar of Berinlian left in the world. Yet in all that time, I’d held true to my vows not merely because of how Ignatius and others had said I would fail, but because I honestly believed what those oaths stood for. I’d sworn my heart and soul to the Order. I’d been willing to give my life for it, without hesitation. And to now have the chance to bring back that beauty and mystery to which each scholar dedicated their lives…
It was overwhelming. All I’d ever wanted.
Except…
Gwyneira smiled at Ignatius, her entire being a picture of nobility. “We would be most grateful for anything you could do to help.”
Except I loved her.
And it felt like I’d lost everything.
37
GWYNEIRA
Byron was going to leave.
Every ounce of royal training kept my face still and my bearing straight. I smiled at Ignatius. At Byron too. Nothing in my manner would give anyone the slightest hint of how my heart was breaking.
Especially since I knew it shouldn’t be.
“How long will it take to reach Syloria?” I asked Ignatius, my voice held at the pleasant, neutral tone my tutors taught me to use for diplomatic functions.
“Half a day’s travel,” he answered, “assuming the path has stayed clear.”
After which, we’d probably see little of Byron or him.
I tried to ignore the thought. Byron had never offered to stay around forever. He’d never misled me about exactly what he could give. I liked to think we were friends, of course. But friendship didn’t need constant proximity. And I knew what Ignatius’s offer must mean to him, possibly more than anyone else here. To have the chance to rebuild the Order had to be beyond his wildest dreams. Gods, anyone could see he’d been too dumbstruck to even say yes.
So I would support him. Encourage him like a friend should.
And I’d never let him know how much it would hurt to see him leave.
I took a steadying breath, locking my eyes straight ahead on the rough terrain. A questioning feeling brushed across my mind from Ozias, the careful sensation tinged with concern. I sent back reassurance, praying he’d leave me be.
Because I was fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Honestly, it was silly to feel upset when I hadn’t actually lost anything. My friend had simply gotten something he’d always wanted. If anything, I should be happy.
A glint of discarded armor caught my eye, the dented chest plate nearly lost beneath the bushes.
Well, maybe nothappy. Not here where every place I looked felt inhabited by ghosts. But I should be… something.
Clinging to that resolve, I strode onward, determined to exude calm, just as my tutors and my father would have wanted.
Gradually, the curve of the Wall of Erenelle faded into the distance. Silence reigned everywhere we went, with only the rare cries of distant birds and the rustling of small animals in the bushes to challenge its supremacy. Occasionally, stones would peek out from amid the snow or grass, each one too flat and regularly placed to be anything but the remains of a road beneath our feet.
But the remnants of the war were everywhere.
Armor and weapons lay scattered and abandoned, half-buried in dirt and snow. Lonely chimneys stood with no homes left to warm, while crumbling walls overgrown by moss lingered in forests where nothing remained to guard.
“The borders were the worst hit in the war,” Dex murmured as we passed the moldering ruins of a home. “Aneira and Erenelle had been at peace for years. No one expected an attack.”
“Folks in the capital didn’t believe it when they heard,” Lars added. “They thought it was some kind of mistake.”