Abolisher [Drothiker #2]

17.

Vur was bursting with glee.

Faolin had returned to their apartment and imparted everyone with their plan to head to Silvervale tonight. She was glad he didn't question about how she knew Syrene was in Silvervale ... she was spared from lying.

In truth, Faolin had known the duce's whereabouts for weeks now, but she'd wanted to stay in the city and free all the slaves before approaching her.

She wouldn't say she failed. But she wouldn't call it a succession either.

They set about for the town that same night, it was only about time Queen Felset sensed Drothiker near herself, and the last thing Faolin wanted was Syrene's death. The trek would have been quicker by carriages—which would have taken two hours instead of five—but Levsenn needed to stop by water and they couldn't afford anyone witnessing a siren.

They'd stopped twenty minutes ago—Levsenn was still in water. Vur with her, keeping a mirage around the area lest anyone passed by. Meanwhile Undesin trailed Faolin hauling the doe they'd just hunted. The boy may be scrawny little thing but he damn well knew how to hunt for food. Used his sharp mind to calculate the target's movements more so than crossbow skills—which he barely had. Either way, it made the hunts quicker and easier with him.

"Master used to hunt," he'd told her once. "At the orphanage. I watched him."

"And you're telling me that didn't teach you to use a crossbow?" she'd joked, displaying a mock disbelief on her face.

A blush had bloomed beneath Undesin's dark freckles before he'd looked away.

He didn't blush with her now.

It was only fear in his eyes when he was near her—he tried to veil it like a good lad but Faolin saw it in those big green eyes, bright and tattling. He hesitated a lot around her, as if he expected her to strike him if he messed up, and it unsettled Faolin more than it should.

Even now, as they trudged their way through the teemed trees back to Vur and Levsenn, Undesin was quiet, trying not to breathe too loud around her.

"Tell me something." She broke the silence.

It startled him enough that he jumped and almost dropped the doe—she caught it from the corner of her eye but chose to pretend otherwise.

"How was it at the fortress?" It pained her to talk about that place—she hadn't allowed herself to even think of it. It made her feel a weakling, and she hated it.

Undesin fidgeted. "It was all right."

And that was it. That's the most he would say around her.

"All right?" she echoed. "Didn't soldiers give you a hard time? I know that pig Imsev did."

The boy made a sound that came close to a snort. But whatever it was faded soon. "He had all the right to. All of them had. I was slow and inefficient and ... thin. They didn't think I was fit to be a soldier. So they gave me a hard time, insulted me, hoping I would ... man up. Except—" He paused. Audibly swallowed. And didn't say further.

Except Aazem. Her throat burned.

Faolin paused and turned to the boy. "You're wrong. They had no right to regard you the way they did. Being bony doesn't make you any less of a man, neither does being slow or unproductive. Being a man doesn't mean you have to be masculine and rowdy. Be honest with yourself about who you are. Don't let anyone ever get that shit into your head. Understand?" She spat her disgust on the twigs. "Man up, my ass."

The boy nodded dutifully, looking down at his feet, as if he'd just been chastised. But just as Faolin turned back and made to continue walking, he said, "That's exactly what he once said to me."