Page 47 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Kolfinna watched as the redhead planted her hands on the table and announced her presence. She wanted to turn around and leave the room, but that would attract more attention. Maybe she could make an excuse that she was tired? They had been traveling for a long time before this, so it only made sense that she would be tired from the journey and not exactly pleased to be thrust into a social event so soon.

But Inkeri was already moving toward the table, and Kolfinna’s stomach grumbled at the various smells and the thought of decadent food. She followed behind begrudgingly.She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at the entrance. The dining hall was nearby and although the food might not be as great as here, she was prepared to make do with it if necessary.

When they reached the table, Brenda rose from her seat beside Gunnar and gave Inkeri a hug. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Kolfinna awkwardly hung behind the two hugging women. There were two empty seats left; one beside Ivar, and the other next to Herja. She noticed the way Ivar’s gaze flashed at the sight of Inkeri and roved over her figure, and how his sea-colored eyes flitted away just as quickly.

Interesting.

She took a seat beside him while Inkeri sat next to Herja. Herja had to take the spot beside Eluf, instead of next to Blár, since Eluf and Gunnar were currently occupying those seats. It was a small victory—at least Kolfinna didn’t have to be front and center of it all—but the expectation on Herja’s face still soured her stomach.

The kiss replayed in her mind and her insides clenched painfully.

Between the girls greeting each other, Blár’s eyes found Kolfinna’s. The silvery-white fur lining of his cloak made the blue of his eyes stand out vividly. With a single stare, the breath of winter breezed past, sending a shiver down her spine.

Kolfinna forced herself to be as expressionless as she could be—as if his appearance didn’t bother her in the least. Like she was unaffected by all of it—the hugging, the kiss, the smiles and laughs he gave.

“How have you been?” Inkeri asked him as she settled into her seat and folded her hands over the white, shimmering silk tablecloth. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been back at this base.”

“I know.” Blár picked up his knife and cut a piece of his roasted duck from his ceramic plate. The silver edge of the knife gleamed in the bright lighting of the room, and it took Kolfinna a second to realize that he wasn’t using the cutlery—he was using a dagger. “You know why I left.”

It almost made her smile—the crudeness was so like him, but then she remembered the kiss and the fact that he hadn’t been there at the trial, and her twitching lips stilled.

She folded her hands on her lap and stared at the flower arrangement centerpiece at the table. She tried to name each one—pink roses, purple Astrantias, and soft-green eucalypts—to keep her mind occupied.

“Because you couldn’t stand the lieutenant?” Inkeri asked.

“Damn right.” Blár popped the meat in his mouth and chewed. He was staring at Kolfinna, but even as she felt his gaze boring into her, she stayed focused on the flowers.

“And here I thought you couldn’t stand Gunnar and that’s why you left,” Ivar said as he dragged a finger over the rim of his wine glass. His lips formed a subtle smirk, while Gunnar snorted.

“I’m the only reason he stayed for so long,” Gunnar said. “I thought for sure he couldn’t stand living with your dusty ass.”

Eluf lowered his bone-in chicken thigh and fixed a disappointed look at the two men who continued to bicker. “I’d prefer to have aquietdinner that doesn’t involve your childish antics. Either of you.”

Kolfinna almost laughed, while Herja braced her arms on the table and leaned forward in Blár’s direction. She was seemingly immune to the conversations around her. “But the bigger question is, are you back for good?”

Blár stabbed another hunk of meat with the tip of his dagger and lifted his shoulders at the same time. “No clue. That depends.”

“On?”

Kolfinna didn’t even realize she was drumming her fingers on the table until Inkeri suddenly placed her hand atop hers.

“Are you okay?” Inkeri whispered, a hundred questions reflecting within her kind, gray eyes.

“Oh? I’m good?—”

“Are you hungry? I’ll get you a plate.”

“No, I’m fine?—”

But Inkeri only shook her head and left the table. Had she noticed the conflict on Kolfinna’s face? Was Kolfinna not doing a good enough job at appearing aloof? Or maybe Inkeri thought she was too hungry to socialize well?

It could’ve just been that Inkeri was being kind. She hoped that was why because she didn’t want to think about the woman knowing her vulnerable secret—that she had feelings for Blár and that she washurt. Hurt and betrayed.

Brenda folded her arms together on the table and watched Inkeri at the serving table. “So …” Something lit in her eyes and she pressed forward like she was sharing a secret. “Is it true about Inkeri?”

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