Page 8 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

Joran stilled, bright eyes flashing withsomethingbefore he shook his head. “No.”

Relief pooled in her chest. “Ah. Great?—”

“But there are people who don’t like fae,” he said slowly. “Many of the people we catch here are criminal fae running to the Mistlands.” He averted his gaze and messed with his cuff again. “I’ve seen … I’ve seen some soldiers do some very cruel things to those we capture.”

Her blood ran cold. Whatever relief she had felt dissipated, replaced with bone-deep apprehension. No matter where she went, she was bound to find people who hated fae, but the thought of living so close to them—and, when she glanced at the beds, potentially even sleeping in the same room as them—made her legs shake and her hands sweat.

“Your roommates will be back in a few hours. They can take you to the dining hall in the evening.” He gave her a small smile before shutting the door behind him.

Now that he was gone, Kolfinna reached over her shoulder to scratch her itchy back. Her fingernails dug into the flesh and she ran her fingers over it, a wave of pain and relief washing over her. It was strange how itchy she had become.

It was also then that she was able to take note of the other details in the room. Like the rug beneath the left bed, with splashes of bright fuchsia, deep indigo, sunny yellow, andvibrant vermillion. On the right-hand wall hung a small tapestry depicting an expansive sea with ships and fish and sea-creatures in the water. The pop of color calmed Kolfinna somehow. As if there was life outside the slabs of gray stone all around her.

On top of the middle bed were folded gray uniforms. Kolfinna eased her rucksack on the empty bed and began unfolding her clothes from her pack and organizing them into the trunk. When all of her things were unloaded, she plopped down on the hard bed. It creaked against the stone floor and she made a mental note to buy a similar rug like the one her roommate had. The boring, spidery-cracked ceiling stared back at her, and even though the bed was stiff and the pillow was paper-thin, Kolfinna’s eyelids fluttered shut.

The soundof a door cracking against the doorjamb jerked Kolfinna awake from her dreamless slumber. For a moment, her mind wandered to the Hunter’s Association and Hilda, to that wooden room in the cabin and the sound of the door slamming shut, and the hunters laughing at her after they were done tormenting and torturing her. Before her eyes could even focus on the room around her, her heart raced and her palms grew sweaty. But then she was brought back to the room. To the stony gray floors and walls. To the two beds flanking her, to the single window lodged above her bed.

A woman had entered the room and stood a few feet away from Kolfinna’s bed. A shocking mane of fire-red curls surrounded the woman’s tanned, freckled face. Upon seeing Kolfinna, her brilliant blue eyes widened.

Someone clucked their tongue and Kolfinna looked to her left, toward the organized side of the room, where another beautiful woman sat cross-legged on the bed, a handkerchief clasped beneath an embroidery hoop in one hand and a needle in the other hand. Streams of bone-straight inky hair draped over her shoulder and reached down to her waist.

The dark-haired woman lifted her head from her embroidery. “You shouldn’t be slamming the door so hard.”

The other woman snorted and flopped down on her bed on the right, atop her clothes and disarray of sheets. “Whatever. It’s not like this place ismine.”

“Showing basic respect for?—”

“Shut it, Inkeri. I’m not really in the mood to be lectured today.”

Kolfinna expected the embroidery lady to be offended by that, but she only rolled her eyes and went back to her work. The other woman turned in her bed until she was facing the ceiling and covered her face with her pillow, a sigh escaping her lips.

“Aren’t you going to askwhyI’m not in the mood?”

“No.”

The redhead shot up in bed. “Don’t you care?”

“No.”

She chucked the pillow at her, but it missed by a few inches. “Bitch.”

Inkeri eyed the pillow, which had sagged beside her lap, with an amused half-smirk before turning her soft-gray eyes to Kolfinna. She was hands down the most beautiful woman Kolfinna had ever seen, and if Kolfinna didn’t feel so out of place, she might’ve had room to feel the stirring of jealousy.

“Hello, I’m sorry about Herja’s attitude and how she awoke you.” Inkeri shot the redhead an annoyed look but smiled when she met Kolfinna’s gaze. “My name is Inkeri.”

“I’m Kolfinna,” she said, looking between Herja and Inkeri. “Nice to meet you both.”

Inkeri opened her mouth to respond, but Herja snorted and flipped herself on the bed so she was lying on her stomach. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s great for you to meet us, but it’s not mutual, fae-girl.”

Kolfinna had heard similar words so many times—fae scum, little fairy, heartless. She had heard so many of the same insults told with the same condescending tone. It was to be expected that the military wouldn’t be any different than the Royal Guards when it came to bullying her.

Kolfinna sat straighter on the bed and stared at Herja, who was wrestling her comb out from the nest of sheets and clothes. “Why do you say that?”

“Hm?” Herja tilted her head to the side, her reddish-orange hair catching in the light. “Well, why doyouthink?”

“Herja—” Inkeri started, tone level.

“No, no, not you, Inkeri,” Herja said. “You know exactly what this is about?—”

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