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Ivar grunted in response. His long black hair was tied and plaited at the nape of his neck, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin against the flickering light of the fire. Not a fan of the heat, then.

“Surely, there are more habitable areas?” Kora asked.

Blake collapsed to her left, equally distanced between herself and Theron. He brought his knees up, crossing his ankles before resting his arms on top. Aryn had wandered off to the tents and horses stationed far from the fire, scouting the edges of the rising dunes for potential intruding enemies.

She wasn’t sure where Callan was, but hopefully he wasn’t returning anytime soon.

“Yes, the south of the continent is rife with jungles. Trees bigger than you could imagine.” Theron raised his hands in the air, stretching his arms wide to imitate the size, and Kora’s eyes widened at the span of them—he was truly a walking giant. “It would take a small unit of men weeks . . . maybe even a month, to attempt to navigate it. The intensity of the jungle foliage makes it difficult to farm, so we import the majority of our goods.”

“From us,” she observed. “You need the islands.”

Theron paused and then slowly nodded, his gaze lingering on the fire. “Our relationship with the islands is vital, and one we cherish deeply. We hope to continue to grow our bonds together through my time visiting.”

Kora nearly vomited from the grovelling, courtly tone. So different from his original commanding voice when they’d first met. Almost as if it had been scripted for him to say.Typical sentinels.

“Isn’t there a war waging between the two halves of your continent?” Samuel asked, sitting back on his large hands.

Theron’s eyes flashed at Samuel’s tone, and his face tightened at the subtle lack of fealty to Azaria beingtheircontinent as well. It wasn’t uncommon for some islanders to separate themselves from the continent—albeit there were not many who would proudly declare so. The silent tear down the middle of the islands was ever-present. No one knew which side the people around them stood on.

One side believed the Azarian Islands were a nation in their own right, led by the viceroys. The other side were fanatics of the royal family, and all things Azaria. The former kept their opinions entirely silent compared to the latter. The continent dwellers even considered the islanders as rebels at times, if they didn’t swear fealty.

And then there were the rebels, devout to the old ways.Thatwas a whole can of worms Kora didn’t want to touch. Not when she’d physically been in their nest. Perhaps the tear in the islands had a few cracks slithering through it.

That was all about to change soon.

Theron cleared his throat, setting his waterskin aside. “I can assure you . . . all is well in Azaria.”

“But thereisa war?” Samuel pressed.

“There have been some disputes with natives of the jungle. But there are no wars,” Theron’s tone sharpened.

From what she could remember of Erick’s history lessons, the continent was barren. Worse than the tundra. Wars had raged between the jungle natives—the Loukash—and the Stagharts, until the ground had split, a cavern gaping open across the width of the land, as if the hardened earth had developed jaws.

It’d miraculously split the two peoples, forcing them to remain to their halves of the continent. But Erick had reported Azarians still attempted to build bridges to this day, sending scouts to scale the caverns and spy on the Loukash. Whilst thenatives chose to guard their side, silencing any trespasser they discovered.

“I’ve heard that the king wants to expand to take control of the islands. To gain more troops and supplies for these . . .disputes,” Samuel’s words were slow and forceful, his stare not faltering as Theron’s face darkened.

“Samuel,” Kora hissed.

“Those are just rumours, Sam,” Blake murmured, hedging around Theron’s tensity.

“Rumours are impactful,” Theron replied. “They can tear a nation apart, topple kingdoms and thrones.”

“Good thing it’s just a rumour then.” Kora glared at Samuel, but his boulder-hardened face didn’t waver.

“If you pull our troops and resources, you’ll kill these islands,” Samuel replied gravelly.

“You should rein in your dogs.” Callan’s legs brushed against her spine, and she shot to her feet to create distance from him, cringing at the fabric of his trousers touching her. He peered down at her once again, with that disgusting, annoying grin. Definitely a creep.

“Watch your mouth,” Kora spat.

“Oh . . . I intend to do muchmorethan that,” Callan’s voice lowered along with his eyes as he hungrily surveyed her body. “Those leathers must be suffocating in this heat . . . why don’t you take them off?” he purred.

“You will respect the captain.” Blake stood, seething, his fists clenched at his sides in restraint.

Callan huffed a laugh. “Women are good for one thing only—and it’s certainly not being acaptain.” He leaned in, and her eyes watered at the reek of him. “Come on, give us a show.” She tried not to gag at the smell of his breath.Oh, she’ll give him a show. A pointy one with daggers.

“You heard her,” Samuel’s broad presence appeared next. “Watch your mouth, you lily-livered scourge.” He smacked his spyglass against his hand, his intentions clear if Callan tried to touch her.