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The girl leaned to the side as slowly as she possibly could, eyes scanning the outside of the carriage. Soldiers marched tirelessly on the side of the road, their heavy boots smashing the green grass, and many jumped out of the way of their carriage, for fear of getting trampled. They'd taken only one break on their way from the capital, and the poor animals were exhausted.

She would not be so surprised if their hearts gave out when they were finally allowed to stop their run.

"Katarina."

Her blue eyes fell back to the map laid in front of her, then to the man sitting next to her on the bench. He was already watching her, his brows drawn up, granite eyes pinned on hers.

Over the years, she'd gotten a knack for being able to predict what he was going to say, despite his lack of tells. He could not afford to have tells, when he was the general of the Second Army.

She didn't bother with an excuse, knowing that he could read her just like any book. "I was thinking about the horses. They should be swapped before you next leave."

The Darkling sniffed, "If you're nervous about going into the Unsea, Katarina, I will have someone else lead the skiff."

The Unsea, she thought as a scowl morphed into her beautiful face, was the name the map-makers used to lull merchants into a fake sense of security. It was undermining to say it like that when she had crossed the Fold so many times before. To threaten her like that – when she'd waited three years to be given command of a crossing mission. When he'd waited three years to give her the command – it was ridiculous.

No one was more prepared than her, and yet the thoughts remained, shoved into the deepest darkest corner of her being. She thought about how many volcra she could hold back, and about the uselessness of guns against the monsters. She wondered if those otkazat'sya soldiers marching outside had the same fears as her.

There was no turning back, either way. They were soldiers, their lives were dedicated to serving Ravka. There was no other way but forward, and she'd be damned before she was left behind.

She trained her eyes back onto the map, on the route they had marked through the Fold – a straight cross through to Novokribirsk, a couple of days' affair if nothing went awry while they were in the fold. Two skiffs were being prepared for the crossing even now, as their carriage arrived, and the Darkling exited without so much as another look to her.

Katarina hurried behind him, ignoring the looks they received from the other Grisha in the camp. Fearful and reverent to the Darkling, whose shadows seemed to cling to the bottom of his kefta, and frowns thrown at herself, mostly.

"You know that I am ready," she whispered as she walked half a step behind him.

When the Darkling bowed his head, shielding from the sun, she thought she could spy the ghost of a smile on his face. Still, when he spoke, his voice was stone, "Do not disappoint, Katarina."

𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅 ˢᵃᵇWhere stories live. Discover now