Page 79 of Spoils of war
Will sat at the gleaming walnut table, one hand wrapped around a chipped teacup. When I stepped in, he straightened and turned toward me so fast the chair creaked beneath him.
“Kera,” he said, quiet, like he didn’t want to startle me. But his eyes were bright. Hopeful. Like just seeing me upright was enough to make his whole morning. I tried to smile.
The table was covered in food. Porridge. Scrambled eggs. Bread and jam. I hadn’t seen that much food in weeks, maybe months.
“You need to eat, child,” Iria said, turning from the stove with a quiet kindness in her eyes. “Please. Help yourself.”
I grabbed a plate. My fingers trembled around the edges as I spooned tiny portions onto it. I sat down across from Will. He didn’t say anything else, just sat still, trying not to look like he was watching me. But I could feel it anyway.
“We’ve got lovely weather today,” Iria said. “I’ve heard the birds singing all morning.”
I forced down some eggs. “Will told me the fields here are beautiful.”
“They are,” Iria said, her smile soft but watching me carefully.
“Why don’t you two head into town today? Go outside. Get some air. Maybe pick up a few things for the road.”
My heart sank.
Outside.
Go back into the world. The same world that had chewed me up and spit me out.
Will shifted beside me, setting his mug down. “We do need new boots,” he agreed. “And clothes for the journey. It’s already getting colder.”
I stared down at my plate.
“It would do you good,” Iria continued. “Bring some color back to your cheeks.”
I sat with it. With all of it. The warmth, the food, their eyes on me. The fear curling in my gut. The exhaustion sitting in my bones.
“Okay.” I said, my voice barely making it out.
Maybe the sun would do me good.
Or it wouldn’t.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The fields were absurdly beautiful, and it should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. The sun was on my skin, and still, I felt nothing. Not warmth. Not cold. Just a strange distance. As if my body was there, but I wasn’t.
Will walked beside me, quiet. Hands shoved deep into his pockets, head slightly lowered, like he didn’t want to disturb the silence. I’d had too much time to think. Too much time to remember. Every memory played on a loop, some clearer than others, and I kept trying to make sense of it. Fit it all together. But no matter how I turned it around in my mind, one piece was missing.
A piece that wasn’t mine to remember.
It washis.
“Will?” I said.
He blinked, startled, like he’d forgotten I could still speak.
“Yeah?”
That was it. I had to ask. I had to know.
“When you found me…” I kept my eyes on the horizon, afraid to look at him. “What was it like?”
Will’s steps slowed. He didn’t answer right away. Just shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, like the memory physically hurt to touch.
