Book 6: She Isn't a Weapon

Ryatt

“She tells me how much she hates you every day during training,” Westfall says as we walk along one of the bridges at night, ten days after I tore Ella’s heart in half in the dining hall.

I’ve just arrived in Veiled Valley after a week-long journey to the Roguelands to check on my commanders and generals and to make sure Alpha Magnus of Granite Rise didn’t string Granger up by his neck in a tree for what he did to Princess Amanda.

“Everything she does is in spite of you,” he continues when I don’t reply.

“I can’t say I don’t deserve whatever she’s saying.”

“She has a rather colorful vocabulary.” He stops to look out over the city. From our vantage point, the twinkling lights send sprays of silver dancing over the levels of bridges, all the way down to the river.

I sigh heavily and go to stuff my hands in the pockets of my jacket before I remember I’m wearing a cloak and not my leather jacket, which I’d dropped off at a seams