Page 108 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Twenty people had died,and over a hundred were injured.

The deaths on the enemy’s side were abysmal—three.

Kolfinna had thought it was a lie when Sijur announced it that morning. He was still standing there, atop a small dais of broken stones and splintered wood. The entire base was in front of him. The crush of soldiers, the smell of sweat and blood, and the anger and fear on everyone’s faces were almost too stimulating for Kolfinna. Her head throbbed painfully with the sights, smells, and noises.

Sijur cast a sweeping glance over his army. “Many of you are probably shocked. Confused. Who were those white-haired, red-eyed beings? They didn’t appear to be fae? And what about the fae? Why did they have wings? You all must have these questions, and I’m sure, with those uncertainties, there isfear.”

Sijur paused in his speech and let those words sink in. The soldiers shifted on their feet, but all eyes were still on him. Waiting with bated breath.

Kolfinna had to hand it to Sijur—he spoke with so much authority, like he belonged in this position, in front of hundreds of soldiers. Her previous captain, Edwin, didn’t have this effect when he spoke to his unit of the Royal Guards. He had alwaysseemed to be trying too hard, but Sijur fit the role perfectly. She wondered if it was because he was the son of the commander-in-chief.

His voice boomed over the tattered courtyard. “Those creatures you fought are known as elves. They are similar to the fae, in that they are a magical race, but they have different abilities than the fae, as you encountered. We are still looking into the matter with these elves, but they are our enemy. The fae that had wings are also our enemy. We believe this attack came from Ragnarök. An army of fae and elves has emerged in the south and has been attacking our fortresses there. The southern wall has been breached, and we are battling with that army as I speak.”

He paused and looked at the soldiers, who watched him with unease.

“We have kept this information under wraps this past month while we contained the situation, but last night was a clear act of war, and we cannot ignore it any longer. These fae and elves will not take our country, not as long as we are alive and fighting for it. We will not allow anyone to take our country from us!”

A cheer rang through the ranks, and Kolfinna could feel the nearby glares sent her way. She stared straight ahead as anxiety curled up in her belly. This rallying speech only intensified the already-present hatred these people had for the fae—and now for the elves.

Sijur raised a hand and the crowd quieted. “We will march to the south and take our territories back from these Ragnarök scum. We will not sit and twiddle our thumbs as these fae folk invadeourlands!”

Another round of cheers. Another round of dirty looks casted her way.

“Prepare yourselves for battle! We march tomorrow.” Sijur stepped down and everyone began talking amongst themselves.

Kolfinna turned around to leave, only to be met with a looming figure. Bjarni peered down at her with eyes narrowed to slits and a cruel twist on his lips.

“Fae scum,” he bit out. “You shouldn’t be here. Everywhere you go, you invite death and battle. Are you truly on our side?”

Kolfinna was taken aback. But she didn’t have time to wallow in shock; the soldiers around her had all turned to face her. Most were scowling at her, as if she had been the one to fight them last night. They appeared blind to her own wounds—which had partially healed by morning but were still sore and throbbing.

“I’m a soldier now.” Her voice sounded small even to her. She tried to straighten her aching shoulders to face them. “I’ve always been on the side of Rosain.”

The soldier beside him snorted. “Your people are not on our side. You should run back to Ragnarök, where you belong.”

“She’s probably a spy,” Bjarni sneered.

“I wouldn’t have broken my arm if it wasn’t for your people.”

“Same here.”

Kolfinna swallowed as more and more people glared at her. She hated being the center of attention, and maybe it was foolish to think that she—fae, white-haired and pink-eyed—was able tonotbe in the spotlight.

But she had decided not to let anyone push her around, not since the Royal Guards, so she steeled herself. She put on the nastiest expression she could muster—a mix between Blár’s icy glare and Magni’s arrogant looking-down-on-someone stare.

“Maybe”—Kolfinna cracked a knuckle for emphasis and injected as much venom in her tone as she could—“if you’d fought better, you wouldn’t have to resort to blaming me for your injuries. Now get the hell out of my way before I shove some stones up your ass.”

Bjarni bristled. “You?—”

She used their surprise to her advantage and slipped past one of them. He reached out to grab her, but Kolfinna shoved past him, purposefully elbowing his injured arm. He cried out in pain while she continued to quickly weave through the thicket of people.

Kolfinna kept pushing through the crowd when a hand firmly grasped her uninjured shoulder. She whirled around, ready to punch whoever it was, but stopped when she met Ivar’s blue-green gaze. An amused smirk curled his lips. He raised an eyebrow at her raised fist.

“Are you planning on punching me? Or shoving some stones up my ass?”

Her cheeks heated up with color. “You heard?”

“I sure did.” He released her shoulder with a laugh. “I was planning on stepping in and being the savior, but you didn’t need my help. I should’ve known better, especially since youdidknock a stone across Bjarni’s ugly face the first day here.”

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