Page 9 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

“That’s not fair to her.”

“It’s not fair to Brenda either.” She pushed herself into a sitting position and combed her hair distractedly with rigid movements, ignoring Kolfinna altogether. “Or me.”

Kolfinna’s chest squeezed painfully slow; the next fifteen years would be spent like this. Maybe with the same two roommates, maybe different ones, and maybe in a different room, but fifteen years …like this. With people who didn’t like her. Or barely tolerated her.

At least when she was a Royal Guard, though, she didn’t have tolivewith Gisela, or Farthin, or Edwin, or any of the people who didn’t like her. If these two women planned on bullying her, she’d have no choice but to fight back because she wouldn’t repeat the past five months.

Kolfinna’s mana burned at her fingertips and she connected it to the stone floor just in case things got ugly. She fixed the red-haired woman with a level stare. “If you’ve got something to say to me, then say it.”

Herja paused with combing her hair and gave Kolfinna a satisfied, snobbish look, as if she had been waiting for her to say that. “I don’t like that you’re my roommate and I definitely don’t like how our previous roommate, Brenda, got kicked out to make room for you. I don’t think it’s fair and, quite frankly, I don’t want you here at all.”

“Herja …” There was a warning in Inkeri’s voice.

Kolfinna regarded Herja coldly. “I didn’t kick out your previous roommate and I didn’t do anything to warrant this reaction.”

“From what the rumors say, you’re a murderer”—Herja crossed her legs and ticked off one of her fingers—“you were kicked out of the Royal Guards for trying to attack and kill the other guards in the middle of a capital-wide emergency”—another finger ticked down—“and you have dubious, potential ties to Ragnarök.” She nodded as if satisfied. “What about that list makes you think I’m comfortable having you as a roommate?”

Heat rose to Kolfinna’s face. “You wouldn’t understand?—”

“Such atypicalresponse.” She rolled her eyes and got to her feet. “Just what I’d expect from a slimy murderer. Anyway, Inkeri”—Herja zeroed in on the pretty woman—“I’m not going to sit around and socialize with a murderer, so I’ll be off. Do you want to come with me?”

Inkeri held up her embroidered handkerchief. “I want to finish this, but I’ll see you at the dining hall.”

“So long as you’re okay being alone with a murderer.” Herja gave Kolfinna a last, dark look before sauntering off and slamming the door shut behind her.

Silence filled the small space of the room and Kolfinna’s face felt like it would burst in flames. She didn’t know if what she felt was humiliation, mortification, or simply fury at Herja’s abrasiveness. News of her trial seemed to have spread quickly if even people here on the western border knew of it.

But then she reminded herself that she wasn’t here to make friends. If she couldn’t find a place to belong in the Royal Guards, there was no hope of finding that here, in this military base full of unfamiliar, harsh faces.

“What rank are you?” Inkeri asked, breaking the tense silence.

Kolfinna was at least a yellow rank since the Royal Guards didn’t allow anyone less than that to join, but she didn’t have an accurate rank on display. It was only the military that plastered their rank on their chests. And by the reflective yellow lion badge clipped to Inkeri’s breast pocket, Kolfinna knew her rank right away.

“I’m not sure.” Kolfinna ran her fingers through her hair, untangling the worst of the locks that had knotted together on the side of her hair that was completely white before moving on to untangle the other side of her head full of dark waves.

“Is your hair like that naturally?”

It wasn’t before, but after Hilda tortured her, it had somehow transformed into this half-white, half-black mess. Truthfully, she wasn’t a fan of it. Not only did she stick out even more, but it was jarring to look at.

“Yes,” Kolfinna settled with.

“Interesting.”

Interesting indeed—it was something that bothered Kolfinna. Not just because of the way it looked, but because it made her wonder if it had anything to do with her uncertain bloodline. According to the book about magic beasts she had deciphered a few weeks ago that Fenris had given her, all elveshad white hair and red eyes. If she truly was related to the half-elf commander in some way—likely a distant relative of the heir—then was this hair representative of that? And although her eyes weren’t red, they were pink—and that was close enough, wasn’t it?

Kolfinna shuddered to think of the cave she and her party had discovered on the west border mission, which foretold that the heir of the fae queen would release her. She didn’t want to be related to the evil queen, or the half-elf commander, or the strange heir, but … It was all too strange—the physical changes she was undergoing, her new ability to heal quickly.

She couldn’t share any of this with anyone because if she truly was a relative of the half-elf commander’s—and a relative of Queen Aesileif, his wife—then Ragnarök would come after her, since a blood relative of the queen’s was needed in order to unseal the ruthless monarch.

Kolfinna didn’t even want to think about what that meant for her, but she was absolutely sure she needed to keep that to herself.

Thirty minutes passed in silence; Inkeri worked on her embroidery, only occasionally raising her head to watch Kolfinna with a blank look, while Kolfinna distractedly combed her hair, reorganized her clothes and items again, and then combed her hair a second time. There wasn’t much for her to busy her hands with.

Finally, when the sun began setting and their room filled with the soft orange-lavender glow of dusk, Inkeri set the embroidery aside on her nightstand and rose to her feet gracefully. “It’s about time for dinner. Would you like me to show you the way?”

Kolfinna jumped to her feet, ready to leave the cramped room. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Wonderful.” She waved her forward and they both entered the gray-toned hallway once more. Inkeri watched her with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “You were a Royal Guard before this, so I’m sure everything looks very drab to you.”

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