Kestra Isidore walked through the lines of recent arrivals, handing out blankets and food like all the other volunteers.She'd been doing this for hours and her face was weary from the smiles she'd given every valkyrie who'd recognised her. It was infinitely better talking to an elf. They didn't ask to see the phoenix mark, didn't come close to tears when she asked their name. No the elves merely took the cans of rations with shaking hands and wrapped the blankets around themselves, unused to the ferocious Miras winters.

When her boxes had run out she returned to the collection point to get more. Their resources were running woefully thin, even with the raids on nearby outpost supplies. With two hundred thousand Kallians and the rebels they'd originally had the mountains were stretching them to maximum capacity. And stretching Kestra too.

Every day she spent doing whatever work was required to help the base keep running. Ever since her mother had arrived she'd stopped attending war meetings as she knew nothing about the strategies they spent hours pouring over. Now Kestra devoted her time to comforting the valkyrie miners and delivering food and messages throughout the camp. The latter was simple, satisfying work. The former was...difficult. Taxing. Every promise she made, every person she gave hope to was another weight on her shoulders. She could not disappoint them.

"I don't know how you do it," Layla said, interrupting her train of thought. The moon-haired girl was still wearing a hood over her face to disguise her identity and avoid drawing attention.                          

"Because I must," Kestra replied wearily. The Elfin Queen had taken to bumping into her recently. She seemed lost, unanchored. Kestra knew there was something going on between her and Talia but had decided it wise not to get involved. She couldn't risk alienating either the leader of the elfin rebels or the Elfin Queen. Layla and Talia would sort it out. "Where do you even get the words from?" Layla asked. "You always seem to choose the right ones. I couldn't even begin."                        

"Surely someone taught you how to make speeches, how to sway people and convince them to march into battle." Kestra replied, surprised. "You were meant to rule Veron and Celeste."        

"No," Layla smiled. "No, I wasn't. That was meant to be Maia, remember? I only had training for being a Right Hand before...everything happened. Besides, what you do," she paused as though marvelling. "I don't think that comes from training. I think you're born with it."

  "You're the Elfin Queen," Kestra replied. "I would have thought you were born with it me than yet another Keeper Queen was."

Layla only waited.

"Fine," she continued at last. "I guess the words just come to me, sometimes.I've always thought they came from Belle." She shrugged hopelessly. "Maybe you could pray to Elena?"                                 

"The person who got me into this mess?" Layla laughed. "No."        

  "Sometimes taking a swim helps," Kestra said. "Though I think it's because for us the sea is sacred. When I'm there, everything feels... right. Like I'm where I'm meant to be. Like I'm finally home after wandering forever."                                                                             

"You talk about the ocean the way I've heard other elves talk about their magic." Layla smiled sadly. "Also not an option."                              

"How about this?" Kestra asked. "Elena choose you for a reason, didn't she? Maybe just trust she made her choice right and go with your gut."  

"What if it's just random?" Layla replied. "What if my being Elfin Queen was simply a result of the mixing of two of her direct heirs?"       

"Well, I choose to believe otherwise." Kestra said, half-snapping. 

"What if you're wrong and I ruin everything I touch?" Layla asked.       

"That's why I stay away from war councils," Kestra replied. "Here we can't do much damage other than underwhelm people. But we can also do great good. Just try, Layla. Trust in two immortal goddesses, the holy mark that blazed over your head and thousands of years of elfin prophets and priests."                                                                                  

"I'm just a girl," Layla said, shaking her head. "I'm not ready for this. Not any of it."                                                                               

"And neither was I, Layla. Trust me, you are ready.You're ready because you have no choice but to be."                                                 

"That makes absolutely no sense," Layla groaned.                             

"It does." Kestra replied. "Because it has to."

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Lysandra

Her mother was mad.'Her mother was very, very, very much mad. Mad didn't cover it. She was furious. She was wrathful. She was shaking and jumping up and down from pure and utter rage.                                     

"I will kill Jasper Merson!"She yelled. "I will yank out his teeth and hang them in a necklace. I will skin him alive and rip his hair out of his scalp. I will-I will-"            

"Mother-" Lysandra interrupted. "We need to mitigate the situation."

"The two hundred thousand men are long  gone, Lysandra." Medea snapped. "There is no mitigating the situation. I can't send troops to Miras or Asriel because we already are stretched too thin ourselves. Nor can I divert any of my forces to either country since I have no idea where the rebels will strike next! There is no mitigating the situation!"                                      

"Right now, we look weak," Lysandra said calmly. "We need to put an end to that. Hold a feast in celebration of the search for the rebellion-/a true crack-down on their infestation." She gave her mother a knowing look. Medea slowly started nodding and she did everything she could to stop herself breathing a sigh of relief. She needed to keep her mother focused on her own walls, her own threats. That way she wouldn't take the remaining two hundred thousand to Miras and Asriel.

"You know as well as I do that the nobles despise bowing to a woman," Lysandra continued. "They will rebel at any sign of weakness. And armies are loyal to their generals. We must focus on our own walls, mother. We can't do anything until the rebellion makes their next move. So we wait. Exert control over Kallias itself."

Perfect. Let her mother worry over strengthening their part of the world whilst her friends fought to depose Torus and Hadlow. In the end, it wouldn't be armies that would matter to her mother. It would be a knife in the dark, metaphorically speaking.

"Yes, you're right." Her mother said nodding. "But when the rebels act, we strike fast and we strike hard. We must rip them out at the root." Lysandra forced herself to nod even as fear chilled her bones.