THE REBIRTH OF FLAME
War is a plague unlike any other. There is no cure, no way to put a definitive end to it. It is an immortal illness Nampritt has been cursed with.
As enemy armies draw closer to the borders of Nampritt, the gi...
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PART II. | STEADY HAND DAVROSK
I SAW THE DEVIL'S DAUGHTER FOR THE FIRST TIME LAST NIGHT, AND NOW I'M FORCED TO LIVE WITH HER. Today is the day Third Lieutenant Phenya Sarkrofska moves to Camp Rume. Eso has been slipping in comments about her all morning. I know he's trying to make her sound appealing, but it's only infuriating me more.
Eso is too trusting.
She may have plenty of achievements and medals to prove something, but Edvak Sarkrofska was the most decorated spy before he murdered my father. As of right now, nothing will ever persuade me into completely trusting this woman. Spies create more spies. There's no doubt in my mind she's cunning and manipulative, and damn good at it.
"Can you not look so angry, Davrosk?" Eso asks quietly as we walk into the lobby of the hotel Phenya is staying at. "I understand it's an uncomfortable situation, but she isn't—"
"I'm well aware she isn't anyone besides herself," I cut him off. "She's still a Sarkrofska."
He sighs, shaking his head at me. We get the room number from the receptionist, an older man who looks terrified as he realizes who we're here for. Seeing as he knows she's been staying here, I know his fear stems from whatever could happen when the only son of the late General Carcinium faces the last living Sarkrofska.
We tread up the wooden stairs, the creeks of them echoing up the tall stairwell. Eso seems more on edge the closer we get to her room, his hands constantly being rubbed against his upper legs. He's at my heels as we reach the hallway of the second floor. My heart is beating uncomfortably fast as we pass by the rooms that all lead us to hers. Stopping at her room door, I take a deep breath, my teeth clenched together.
How dare the gods put me in this disgusting predicament after all I have gone through.
The radio is playing from inside, a song that is almost completely overtaken my static. I raise my hand to knock on the door quickly, tucking my hands behind my back to conceal a fist that holds all of my anger. I don't want to hit her, nor will I, but I have every right to be angry at fate. She's a lower-ranked officer, now my Third Lieutenant. My duty is to treat her as such until the moment I have a reason not to.
The door opens and I hold my breath; she seems to do the same. Carcinium and Sarkrofska, General and spy—we're the pieces of a war game people have been begging to see fight.
I take in her appearance because this is the first time I'm seeing a viridian woman who isn't actively trying to kill me. She's striking, I'll give her that. Golden brown skin, piercing cat-like amber eyes, full lips, thick brows, thick hair that's braided and still hangs to her mid-back. Her height is what catches me off guard—I'm a few inches over six feet tall but I don't have to tilt my head down very far to look at her.
