Book 4: The Path of Doubt

Finn

I could’ve asked Kerr, my personal steward, to pack my bag. He probably would’ve done a better job of it than I am. A mountain of half-folded clothes looms at me, asking if that’s really how I’m going to show up to a foreign kingdom.

Putting my back to it is easier than answering. I need a few things out of the bathroom regardless. A bar of that pine soap, at least.

My head has been spinning since Kerr woke me early this morning with a message from Kieran. He’d finally gotten a letter from Tansy Beach, nearly at the end of our agreed-upon time frame. If we didn’t hear in the next three days, we’d be leaving no matter what and assuming the worst.

I hoped the last-minute letter meant they’d managed to find terms. Should’ve known I’m not that lucky.

In goes the pine soap, next to the three tunics Elian has been trying to convince me to turn to rags for almost a year now. One is a horrifying, blotchy, shit-brown, a leftover from Ingrid