#just jane

“I chose to be here. No one made me except myself,” Jane replied. 

The leather armour they’d found for her felt weird—it wasn’t heavy or stiff, it was just strange. She had a sword at her hip that she barely knew how to use and at least six knives strapped to her body. She was a thief, not a fighter, but the others had been so determined to arm her that she hadn’t had the heart to turn them down. Now that they were out of sight—Percy and Nic with the knights and soldiers lined up in front of the city walls, Pavia hidden somewhere along the top of the wall to protect them with her magic—Jane found the weight of the blades oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” Duchess Anwen replied. “You did your best.”

Still, it didn’t feel like it had been enough. They had delayed the invasion but not stopped it. Now they were exactly where they had tried so desperately to avoid being: hemmed into the city, unable to escape, with only a small army to defend the walls as the Vaedian army bore down on them. They had already crested the horizon. It was a matter of hours before they’d be engaged in open battle.

“Do you think my ancestors will forgive me when I meet them in Zailahr?” Duchess Anwen asked.

“What could there be to forgive?”

“This Duchy has remained independent for hundreds of years and is going to fall while under my rule.” She chewed her bottom lip. “My mother will be so disappointed.”

“Then she shouldn’t have gone and died fighting the Vaedian Empire's war. I know they were our allies but we all knew this would happen eventually.”

“Do you think that would’ve changed anything?”

Jane hesitated. “Probably not.”

Duchess Anwen smiled faintly. “Thank you for lying.”