Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Thirty-Six

That night, I laid in the back trying to get some rest, but I was painfully agitated for what awaited us tomorrow. Tomoko petted my hair, trying to get me to settle down, but I couldn't.

Eventually, I did sleep for a little bit, but my sleep was restless and plagued with bad dreams, so I woke up feeling less rested than before, my body aching. Feverish, almost. Tomoko was again the on at my side, gently shaking me awake when the time came.

"We're almost there," they whispered.

I nodded, and pushed up into a seated position, heavy with conflicting emotions. Everyone was staring at me, their eyes reflecting back the anxiety I felt in my chest, pounding like a fist.

I let out a shuddering breath and Tomoko patted my habd.

"Shh," they soothed. "It'll be fine. We switched drivers again, Bjorn is at the wheel. He'll make sure everything goes smoothly."

I nodded, to indicate that I was listening, but otherwise didn't feel reassured. Bjorn could be awfully hot headed at times, and I feared he might make things worse going forward.

I couldn't let him mess this up. If things went wrong, it could start a war. The camp against the capitol and its army. Bjorn against my mother.

I was starting to doubt my decision is allowing Bjorn to come out here at all, so close to the enemy.

The next hour felt like years. I was rigid in my seat, almost forgetting to breathe, until Bjorn pulled the truck to a stop.

I stopped breathing entirely.

The window dividing us from the front slid open, and Bjorn's bronze face appeared.

"They're already here," he said, and my heart stopped. "I want everybody out... except Olya."

He shot a glare in my direction, testing my obedience. I nodded. I wanted to stay behind anyway, just in case we ended up needing a secret weapon. I knew Bjorn didn't think of it that way, he just wanted me to stay hidden, but I was prepared for anything at this point.

Everyone piled out of the truck slowly, six in total, including Bastian.

Counting me, there were seven of us. Eight with the baby, who was suddenly quiet and still in my tummy, as though they also knew it was time to be careful.

I watched through a crack. Bjorn had left the divider open just enough, but I couldn't see much.

We were parked at a bridge. There were at least ten figures standing on the other side, but they were too far away to distinguish. I couldn't even tell if Gunnar was among them.

I was so nervous, I was practically vibrating. I immediately knew something was wrong, no matter what I knew about my mother—no matter what I expected her to do. Something told me she was going to surprise me this time, worse than she ever had before.

It took everything I had not to throw myself from the truck and run across the bridge, but somehow, I managed to stay still.

Bjorn is the one who stepped forth, Bastian swaying at his side. For the first time since we'd left, it was evident that Bastian was regretting his decision to agree to this. Like me, he had sensed the change—sensed a problem, although neither of us yet knew what it was.

I was just as regretful of my decisions in that moment. Old, lost Bastian was like a child. Why had I been so willing to risk him?

I shuddered hard when every one's guns went up. I'm not sure who made the first move, it was that quick. I hadn't even had the chance to blink. I couldn't hear anything from here.