Chapter 18 Breath of the Veil #2
He didn’t even glance at Ella, which only made it worse. She bristled, but Maeren just rolled her eyes and dropped her pack beside the fire.
“Aye, commander,” she said, biting off the title with irritation. Then muttered, “As if I planned to wander off and let her die.”
Jakobav didn’t look back, the last to march off toward the ridge.
Silence settled behind him, thick and watchful, broken only by the low hiss of the fire and the rustle of leaves.
Ella shifted, unsure what to do with herself.
Maeren gave her a quick sideways look and snorted. “You don’t exactly need babysitting, from what I’ve heard.”
Ella stood awkwardly until Maeren tossed her a bundle of twine.
“We’re not going to stand here like statues,” Maeren said. “Help me secure the supplies and stoke the fire.”
Ella arched a brow. “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping watch?”
“Can’t stand around watching while I’m this tense,” Maeren muttered as she drove a stake into the earth. “And you look like you’ll combust if you stand still any longer.”
Ella didn’t argue.
Together they worked in silence, stoking the fire, tying down the supplies, unrolling bedrolls in a wide circle around the blaze until the rhythm of motion steadied her hands.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Maeren pulled a slender green bottle with an iridescent sheen from her pack.
“You just…carry wine around?” Ella asked.
“Fae wine. Worth the extra weight.” She grinned. “Don’t tell Jake. Or do. He could use some.”
She filled two small tin cups and handed one over. “Maeren,” she said simply. “In case you didn’t catch it the first time.”
Ella hesitated, then accepted.
Maeren grinned and then tipped her cup toward Ella’s with a wink. “Or the second.”
Ella choked on her first sip, coughing against the burn of Fae wine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Maeren’s grin faded. “Jake told me about hiding you. I was furious at first. Doesn’t look good for the future king to be tucking away the castle’s intruder.” She shrugged. “He explained why he didn’t want anyone finding out yet.”
Ella’s eyes widened slightly, heat rising to her cheeks.
“But I’m glad he told us,” Maeren went on, her tone softening. “And I’m glad I got to meet you. Couldn’t resist meeting the woman who bested Savina before she had time to call on her power. Godsdamned impressive.”
A reluctant smile tugged at Ella’s mouth. “I’m not sure I deserve that compliment. I feel bad about hurting her. But desperate times and all that.”
Maeren smiled. “Deadly and humble. I’ll cheers to that.”
They clinked their metal cups. The wine burned, but not unpleasantly, warmth blooming in her chest, unraveling a memory she hadn’t expected.
“My father used to share his Fae wine with me,” she said quietly. “Not often. But on rare nights, he’d pour us each a glass in secret, always in the garden. And I’d beg him to train me.”
Maeren blinked. “To fight?”
“He was a warrior once. Fierce, before he gave it up for politics and peace treaties. I was already learning to fight, but nothing matched the lessons of someone who’d seen actual combat.
I think part of him missed the life he’d given up,” she said softly.
“But he would only talk about it after a glass or two. He’d say things…
that peace doesn’t happen by accident. That someone always pays for it. ”
Ella smiled faintly, the ache of missing home tight in her ribs.
“Some of my best sparring happened slightly tipsy. Probably not safe, but it made us laugh.”
Maeren chuckled low. “Sounds like you’d fit right in with this deranged lot.”
“I’m starting to think so,” Ella admitted, her cheeks flushing from honesty…or the wine.
They emptied their cups.
Maeren grabbed a bedroll and tossed it hard to the far side of the camp. “That one’s Savina’s. You’re welcome.” She smirked.
Ella grinned. “Thanks. Make sure it’s far enough. Maybe beyond the trees.”
“I could pitch it outside the kingdom borders,” she said dryly. “And it still wouldn’t be far enough. Sav’s wrath knows no bounds.”
Ella laughed, and for a moment, the tension lifted. “Should we be drinking wine on watch?”
Maeren shrugged. “We’re fine. They’d be back already if they found anything.”
She looked around the camp, at the way firelight danced over the leaves, making them shift, or maybe that was the wine. She was already getting too comfortable with this group. It was hard not to with the way they all teased and laughed at one another.
Their nicknames came easily, spoken with the kind of comfort that only years could build.
She’d already heard Maeren say Sav and Jake, and she was certain they had some filthy nickname for Thane, maybe even one for Soren.
They weren’t just the highest ranked in Dravaryn’s First Guard, they were a close unit.
Ella wondered what it would feel like to belong to something like that.
The thought surprised her with the hope held within it.
She missed her friends in Orchid, especially Nira and Demetrius, and couldn’t help but wonder if they would also have such a tightly knit group if she hadn’t left. She let the moment swallow her before she buried it.
They had unpacked everything, kindled the fire, and there was nothing more to be done. Her gaze drifted around the campsite and snagged on something. She counted the bedrolls again. Wait. There were only four, plus the one Maeren had hurled to the edge of camp.
Ella froze, and at that exact moment, Jakobav stepped from the trees, cloak slung over one shoulder, sword sheathed but ready. He glanced at Maeren and nodded once.
“Coast is clear. No signs of the creature or the opening it came through.”
“There are only five bedrolls,” Ella snapped. “Did you forget how to count?”
Jakobav raised a brow.
“Do I look like I was in charge of packing?” The question landed more like a warning than an excuse. Then his gaze slid past her to Thane.
Thane groaned, throwing up his hands. “Godsdammit. I didn’t think Savina would make it! She took a blade to the gut, I figured she’d be healing, not riding out beside our small but mighty war sprite.”
He nodded toward Ella.
“War sprite?” she hissed.
“In the best way,” he added with a wink. “Those tiny things tend to be terrifying.”
Before she could retort, Savina strode into camp like she owned the ground.
“I ran a full perimeter. No ripples. No tracks. Nothing breathing that shouldn’t be. But it’s not over. That sound wasn’t natural. If it vanished, it could return.”
Everyone went still.
Jakobav nodded once. “We sleep in a defensive pattern. Weapons close.”
Then he turned to Ella.
“You’re with me tonight.”
Ella blinked. “What? Excuse me? The hell I am.”
“We’re short a bedroll,” he said, the faintest curve at his mouth. “You’ll share mine.”
He delivered it like a tactical order, already moving to check the others.
Ella’s lungs stuttered and her vision narrowed, too many emotions rising at once.
It was one thing to sleep in his bed, in the secrecy of his chambers.
But here, in front of his fiercest warriors?
Absolutely not. It wasn’t just the situation, it was his tone, and the way he said it.
Not a question or an invitation, but as a command.
Her heart lurched before pride caught it mid-fall.