#willis farley

"But you don't know everything. I'll read you the passage that particularly hurt me, since I don't want to hide anything from you," added her friend, and finally Mare noticed the second sheet she was holding in her hands.

"I am truly convinced that my dear friend, Lady Elane Haven, has no equal in terms of beauty, elegance and quality, and I don't think I'm at fault if I take it for granted that you agree with me. The affection she has inspired me for years is intensified by something even more significant, namely the hope of soon being able to call her my sister-in-law. I don't know if I have ever told you my feelings about it, but I won’t leave without trusting you, and I believe you won’t find them unreasonable. My brother already admires her very much, all her relatives desire this union for her as much as we do, and I don't think I am deceived by the partiality of a sister if I say that Ptolemus is certainly capable of winning the heart of any woman. With all these circumstances in favour of a bond and none that can prevent it, I am perhaps wrong to indulge in the hope of an event that will ensure the happiness of this many people?"

Mare was stunned. So this was the plan, it wasn't a marriage already orchestrated between Miss Samos and the General, but between her friend and her brother! Wren, however, didn’t want to believe her, and her words about the undeniable affection he felt for her seemed to do nothing but further hurt her broken heart as upstream they didn’t think the same about the letter's emissary, for not to mention that she was convinced that she wouldn’t be able to derive any joy from a marriage to a man whose friends and relatives hoped he would marry another woman.

"You must be the one to decide," said Mare, "and if after mature reflection you discover that the pain of doing a rudeness to his sister is greater than the happiness of being his wife, I certainly recommend you to refuse.”

These words brought Wren a smile, as they both knew perfectly well that she wouldn’t hesitate to accept his proposal, but the shadow of the possibility that he wouldn’t return in six months continued to cast a dark shadow on the general mood, to the point that only Diana’s invitation, addressed to both of them, managed to dispel that constant thought a little, replacing it with genuine curiosity, since she and Wren were by no means intimate enough for such a proposal. The answer to all their questions, however, came the next day when the Colonel's daughter told them that she needed female help, and that Mare was too involved to be the only opinion she would hear. From anyone else, this would’ve been an intolerable rudeness, but Mare knew her friend well, and if it was about romance, an assumption that soon turned out to be correct, she didn't want to be wrong and analyzed every single detail to the point of making the least gesture the most rational. The summary of the matter, however, was that Mr. Jesper had woken up early the previous morning, and unannounced, had gone under her window to ask her for a clandestine meeting. Diana accepted, and he, very awkwardly, revealed his interest in her, as well as his intention to marry her, if she accepted. The entire Farley family would’ve been thrilled with the event, but she had asked him for time to think about it, although she was already certain that she wouldn’t come to any conclusion alone, so she had bestowed that invitation. Wren, who was good-natured, greatly appreciated the gesture, and considered it an unspoken compliment to her sensibility and handling of the matter with Mr. Samos, so she quickly got busy, and all the years they had spent politely ignoring each other were recovered within an afternoon. Mare, however, wasn’t so well disposed towards the idea: she appreciated that Diana had asked for more help to reach the most favourable of conclusions, but she would’ve preferred that she had talked about it with her brother, as Shade had been silently courting her for years, and watched her from afar become the only woman he certainly wanted to marry; the prospect that she might want another man had bothered him and not a little, Mare had noticed, although she hadn't said anything, too absorbed in her own problems, but the real possibility that she might decide to marry another man would certainly have prompted him to declare himself, and everyone knew that those two were meant for each other, something that she wanted to remind to her friend.

"Mr. Jesper is smart and pleasant, and it’s certainly inviting for a woman to be the only one who can put a man at ease, not to say reassuring, even if he doesn’t seem like that kind of person. On the other hand, I can already see the blame on your face, Mare, and I want you to remember that your friendship is the thing I care about most in the world and even if I know how you feel, remember I too would behave differently if my perspectives were different, but they’re not, so I’m just asking you to be happy for me if I accept.”

"I will be," Mare assured her, though she wasn't sure she would ever be able to rejoice in her brother's unhappiness, "I just ask you to tell Shade before making any decisions. Do you think you can?"

To the affirmative answer of the other, Mare waited a time that she considered reasonable and took leave, followed by Wren, who asked her if she wanted to be accompanied home, which Mare refused, determined to be left alone with her considerations. It took her time before she could reconcile herself with the idea of ​​such an inappropriate union as she never imagined that, once called to decide, her friend would sacrifice all her best feelings. The next day, Mare was sitting with her mother and sister when Colonel Farley appeared and requested an audience with Mr. Barrow. Terrified of what might have happened, Mare remained tense the entire time they spent in the library, but the tones never rose, and when he left, the Colonel looked as calm as when he arrived. Mare waited a while before reaching her father and asking him what had happened, fearing a reproach for her advice to her friend, which could’ve broken the relationship between the two families, if the situation between Diana and Shade had been from her misunderstood, but he replied very calmly, saying he was happy and satisfied that Miss Farley, whom he had always thought fairly intelligent, wasn’t as foolish as his wife or daughter Gisa. Although this didn’t gave an explicit answer to her question, it reassured Mare, who was convinced that she could get more direct answers once her brother, who had gone out with Bree and Tramy, returned, as she didn’t want to be pressing with Diana, who could also have took offense at how things went the last time they met. At first, Shade seemed a little surprised by all that attention, but when he realized that Mare’s wasn’t just a fervent desire to know some new gossip but real concern, he told her not to worry, and that everything would turn out right in due time, a time that however established a reserve between the two friend that became a silence so heavy that convinced Mare their confidence was stained forever. Furthermore, these gloomy feelings certainly didn’t help Wren's mood, who hadn’t heard from Mr. Samos for a week and hadn’t even received an answer to her letter for his sister. Even Mare was beginning to have fears, not so much that Mr. Samos was indifferent, but that his sister could keep him far. Reluctant as she was to admit such a devastating idea to the happiness of the only friend she had left, and so dishonourable about the constancy of her love, she couldn't help but think about it often. The united efforts of two insensitive women and a friend so influential, favoured by the charm and amusement of Archeon, might’ve proved to be too much, so she feared, for strength of his affection. As for Wren, her anxiety about that uncertainty was, of course, more painful than Mare's, but whatever she felt she just wanted to hide it, and therefore between her and her friend there were never any allusions to that subject. The mother, on the other hand, wasn’t held back by such delicacy and hardly an hour passed without speaking of Mr. Samos, expressing the impatience for his return, or even asking her daughter to admit that if he didn't come back she would feel treated very bad. It took all of Wren's mild steadfastness to endure those attacks with acceptable tranquillity, which diminished, however, upon the arrival of Miss Samos' letter of reply, which removed any doubt about their winter accommodation, they would have settled in the General's residence, and, according to Wren, also regarding the feelings of Mr. Samos towards Lady Haven. Mare paid no attention to those speculations, she hadn’t seen, in fact, any warmth between the two in the time they had spent at the Hall of the Sun, but the fact that Evangeline was so evil she could take pleasure in the idea of undermine her own brother’s happiness, and in such a mean way, filled her with indignation and resentment, equal only to the concern she felt for her friend, who had fallen in love with a man of such lightness of character, a slave to intriguing friend, willing to sacrifice his own happiness at the whim of their desires. If, however, it was only his happiness

that was sacrificed, he could play with it as he wanted, but it was also Wren's that was involved and she believed he should be aware of it. In short, it was a topic that could’ve been thought about for a long time, even if, perhaps, to no avail, but she could do nothing else, and whether Mr. Samos's affection had really died down or had been suffocated by the interference of his friends, whether he had been aware of Wren's feelings or they had escaped his observation, in any case, even if the judgment would’ve been concretely influenced in the different hypotheses, the situation remained the same, and the peace of the girl equally wounded. It was a couple of days after, that Wren found the courage to talk about her feelings with Mare, but in the end, left alone by Mrs. Skonos, after a longer than usual rant on the Hall of the Sun and his owner, she said: "Oh! If my dear mother controlled herself more, she has no idea how much pain her constant considerations about him give me. But I don't want to complain, since it won't last long. He will be forgotten, and we will all be as before."

Often, when Diana repeated the basic stances once again to engrave them into her body’s memory, her mother sat aside and scrolled through an old book, one looking unusually well-preserved and rich in making. Diana hadn’t noticed it at first, lost in her moves and Papa’s coaching. Then she assumed Mama had another secret hobby. Nothing would’ve surprised her at this point. When she finally asked about the book, Mama shrugged but grinned over her whole face.

“Papa brought it home,” she said. “It’s a manual for Silver training. How they learn to duel one another and such.”

Papa, similarly amused, shook his head. “I just grabbed it by accident. A Silver wanted several of her books disposed of and I picked up a few on a whim.”

Mama kissed his cheek. “The best booty you’ve got.”

Diana, intendedly ignoring their show of affection, went for the book. After a few glances, she looked at her parents in confusion. “I can’t read … can't understand it.”

Mama nodded. “It’s written in the language preferred by the noble Silvers. Papa and I had it in school for a while. Haven’t you?”

Diana tried to remember. “Now that you say it … it was years ago, only for a few months, I believe.”

Mama took her by the shoulder, suddenly serious. “You should refresh your knowledge. Many official documents and forms are written in this language, and you should be able to read them.”

Diana sighed, hearing the implied demand to pay attention to school in general. But as she started to delve into the book and figure out the language and fighting techniques both, she rejoiced at the notion that she learned the tongue of the Silvers through instructions to best them.

"To defeat an eye despite their ability of precognition, bring them into a situation out of which they can't escape, for example, employ attacks from two sides ..."

Yet there was no use to be made of her secret lessons, not for years. Diana hunted and butchered, went to school, worked at her mother’s family’s farm, did the occasional job in the village and trained with her parents to finally make a breakthrough in her lessons when she won against her mother three times in a row.

But when she asked about the Scarlet Guard again, voicing the forbidden name, her parents basically froze and couldn’t hush her fast enough.

There is nothing to be done here, she heard when she was lucky, and more often, you’re too young for this. Which in turn made her wonder there was something to be done; if not for her, then for her parents. Her mother happened to be away on her own for several days every now and then, something she hadn’t done before, and the same applied to her father. Nonetheless, their silence persisted and Diana went along with it. Save for the one time she requested to know how Madeline was involved – not at all, as she didn’t wish for fighting lessons – Diana stopped speaking about the Scarlet Guard or rebellion to begin with.

None of her friends were surprised by her bruises and sore muscles after an intense session, as both were nothing uncommon in farm work. Nobody questioned that Diana had little time or skipped one or two schooldays – there wasn’t much to learn in their little all-age school anyway. She could go through missed lessons later on, by herself, or have her parents teach her about them and anything else she needed to know. Apart from basic subjects like reading, writing and math, the children of Sieverling certainly learned nothing in school that would get them into better jobs, outside of the village.

Would the Scarlet Guard get me out of here? Diana began to wonder. Do they need me out of here? After all, it was almost four years after she’d first heard of them and three years of fighting training, and she’d never been introduced to them. She didn’t believe her parents lied to keep her away from the rebels, and yet …

“Ever thought of going away?” Diana asked Giselle who lay down next to her on a freshly-cut meadow. It was a noon after school on a hot day in the summer when they were fifteen. Giselle shaded her eyes with her arm while Diana looked right into the bright blue sky. In an almost leisurely moment like this, one dared to feel at home with joy instead of dread.

She knew the beauty of the place she called home was an illusion. But not Giselle's. Not the people she loved.

With warmth spreading through her, Diana regarded Giselle, whose skirts had slipped down her angled legs. Although their skin tones were quite the same in winter, Giselle’s had tanned to a deep bronze after only a few sunny days while Diana’s only ever became pinker.

Giselle sighed, still not answering. Hadn’t she heard? Diana turned onto her side and let her hand inch closer to Giselle’s, until their fingers just slightly touched. Giselle hooked her fingertips into hers.

Suddenly, she started to giggle. Diana frowned as Giselle contained herself and sat up, folding her legs. A straw had gotten stuck in her brown hair braided around her head. She cocked her head, eyes sparkling like the sunlight. She said, “are you still embarrassed over Ralf kissing you at spin the bottle that you need to leave home, Diana? I know he can be quite a nuisance, the way he’s pining after – ”

“No, I – ” … I would’ve rather kissed you, she thought but swallowed it down, blushing intensely. Why though? Over the years, her crush on Giselle had never faded to friendship alone. And how long she’d needed to figure out her feelings were a crush …

She didn’t let go of Giselle’s hand as she sat up. But her gaze stayed on the ground where her other hand nervously plucked at the glass. “I didn’t mean that,” she said lightly, shaking her head. “I meant moving into a town or city ...” Diana trailed off as the lazy softness vanished from Giselle’s face, replaced by something sharp and grim.

Diana blinked. Quickly, Giselle hid her dark expression with a faint smile that, for her standards, was as chiding as she’d get. Putting her weight on Diana’s shoulder, she propped herself up, letting their hands disentangle. “Come now,” she urged, “I want to be punctual on my first day.” And although Giselle turned toward the pathway leading to her new job on Armina Cordes’s farm, she wasn’t really in haste. She looked over her shoulder and waited for Diana to follow.

Diana rushed after her quite unelegantly in comparison and pulled the straw from Giselle’s hair when she caught up with her. Giselle’s eyes widened, full of amusement, as she beheld it, and then she snatched it away from Diana to play with it as they walked.

Diana thought herself attractive and was proud of her body shaped by her life, but she could feel a kind of plump next to Giselle. Although they were both leanly muscled and curvy, Diana was broad, chubby and tall where Giselle had something delicate and graceful about her. The curve of her neck, bared by the hem of her summer dress and the hair braided around her head, reminded Diana of a swan, the bird the royal family had named itself for. Indeed, sometimes Giselle left an impression on Diana as marvellous and terrific as a queen.

Still, Diana felt she had to ask. “I understand you don’t want to move into town.”.

Giselle didn’t look at her. She didn’t even look ahead anymore but down to her feet.

“I see,” Diana said.

“No, you don’t.”

“Eh?”

Giselle spun toward her and dropped the straw. For a second, her lip quivered. “Do you know how it is in the cities? Think it’s better there than here?”

Diana lifted her hands in defeat. “Sorry. I mean … I didn't intend to propose moving away ...”

Giselle’s frown was so harsh. “They don’t want us in the cities. You think there are better jobs? But not enough, and not for us.”

She had never seen Giselle speak so negatively, so … hopeless and angry. It frightened her – almost. She moved to touch Giselle’s shoulder, but Giselle reached for her first.

“I’ve seen it,” Giselle said quietly. “And heard from others. The Silvers in the cities – and the Reds entrepreneurs – they want only skilled workers. And for everything else you need contacts. They only employ people they know.” She shrugged, with a helplessly weak smile. “You can try, of course. Apply day after day for some heavy task no one else wants to do, and maybe you’ll find one. But not every day. Maybe not even on most days, and then?

“You’ll fear for how to provide for your family. Tides, how to provide food and shelter for yourself.”

Diana forced herself to keep looking at Giselle, no matter how hard it was. This poverty and exploitation of Reds was, after all, what she wanted to fight against.

It was Giselle who glanced down first. “After my family left home,” she murmured, “… we lived in the city for a while, before we came here.

“We didn’t have somewhere to stay …” She shook her head and sniffed.

Although afraid that Giselle would push her away, Diana hugged her, and Giselle’s arms went around her waist. “You’re here now,” she whispered, breathing in Giselle’s smell and longing to protect her.

“I am,” Giselle replied.

After a few seconds, Giselle pulled away, wiping her eyes. “I was so glad to arrive here, to be welcome.” She smiled, and this was a genuine one. “Hard work I can have here too, but here I am safe. And happy.” Holding Diana's hand, she turned back to the path. “And who knows? It’s been only four years. That’s a very little in comparison. In a short time, we might become tenants of our own farm.”

Diana had to return her smile as she walked beside Giselle. But the moment had changed something in her, as if she’d lost her footing now that she knew Giselle’s dream.

Since Giselle hadn’t really cried, her face showed nothing of her distress when they arrived at Armina Cordes’s farm. Diana found it unsettling – not that Giselle was able to calm herself like this, but that she, Diana, had no idea how often Giselle had done this already and that she did not know what worried Giselle deep down.

But had she trusted in Giselle either? She swallowed. On the contrary, she was internalizing her parents’ rule of secrecy.

That’s only in regard to the Scarlet Guard, she thought. I have so many other things to share with Giselle.

Ms. Cordes already waited for them, her dark brown arms crossed, a red scarf covering her dreadlocks. Giselle rushed to her, about to apologize for any delays, but the farmer smiled, shaking hands with Giselle and welcoming her to her farm and greeting Diana in the same friendly manner.

With a few swift and precise orders, Giselle left for the farm house to meet Ms. Cordes’s daughter, waving goodbye to Diana. Diana waved back and was about to walk to the butcher shop to help her mother when she noticed Cordes’s gaze on her.

The farmer tilted her head. “Come with me to the barn, Diana,” she said. “I think I have a job for you.”

Diana frowned, but had no time inquire as Cordes stepped toward a barn already, so Diana had to leap after her.

The barn was huge, proving why Armina Cordes was Sieverling’s greatest farmer. Sacks amassing tons of grain were stored in one large shelf reaching up the high ceiling; farm vehicles crowded on the other side. Both spoke of Ms. Cordes history of success. She’d invested in specific seeds and the crops to be grown from them; crops she could sell to other places for a good price, and from her profit she’d bought the farming machines to plant and harvest more efficiently again.

Seeing the results, it seemed like an easy, obvious path, although Diana knew it had been anything but. Unlike other ambitious farmers, Armina Cordes had been lucky to pick the plants that turned out to grow well on her fields, true, but it had taken decades of hard labour and setbacks to come this far and still, Lord Isère wanted his parts of her success in the form of a higher tithe.

Yet the farmer never recoiled when she talked to him or his servants, like she wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all her lord. She could afford that – she had power now, power she used for the best of her village. Apart from giving away some of her yield, villagers could ask to loan vehicles and machines from her, even for travels.

Ms. Cordes halted in front of exactly such a machine. Diana ceased staring around with an open mouth and decided to return to the topic at hand. “What about this job?” she asked.

The famer stepped closer to her and pointed to a vehicle. “Tomorrow, Marcus Wolff will take you to the next town, to the market. I’d like you to assist him there.” She thought for a moment. “You might not be home by the evening.”

Diana blinked. “It’s a school day tomorrow, and so is the day after …”

Cordes inclined her head. “Indeed. But I’ve heard – from your father – that you’d be interested still.”

“Oh,” Diana exclaimed, her head spinning with the implication. Could it be? Was Armina Cordes involved with the Scarlet Guard? It wouldn’t be surprising. Did she use a kind of code word? Should she, Diana, drop a code word? Or would she fail a test being too –

The farmer smirked, and Diana calmed herself, imitating what she believed was a soldier's demeanour. “That is accurate, ma'am. I’d like to do this job for you.”

Ms. Cordes patted her shoulder. “Very well. I look forward to working with you.”

A/N 2: Reminder that child labour is pretty normalized in the Lakelands. That is the problem - minors have to work so their families make a living. Diana doesn’t realize she should be able to live diffently, but that makes child labour no less wrong.

"Maybe in this case it can be positive", Diana replied, "to be able to hide it from other people, but sometimes to be so wary has its drawbacks. If a woman hides her own affection with the same skill to the one who is the object of it, she can lose the opportunity to conquer him, and it’ll be a very poor consolation to think that the world is equally unaware. We’re all free to start a slight preference, is more than natural, but very few of us have such feelings that they really fall in love without being encouraged. Nine times out of ten, a woman would do better to show more affection than she feels. It’s indisputable that Samos likes Wren, but he may never express more than that if she doesn't help him do so.”

“But she’s helping him!” exclaimed Mare.

"Remember he doesn't know her the way you do, therefore he may not understand it," the other wisely suggested. Although Diana wasn’t married, she always had good advice, whether it was sentimental, about family or neighborhood disputes, and the suggestions she was giving her, if it hadn’t been the romantic Wren she was talking about, would’ve been really good; although closer in age, Mare's two closest friends were very distant in terms of social class, and couldn’t be more different in character, which made the idea of organizing a cognitive meeting that wasn’t a social event of extended dimensions, a folly.

"Well," Diana said, "I wish Wren with all my heart to be successful, but if she married him tomorrow, I believe that she would be as likely to be happy as she would be studying his character for a year. Happiness in marriage is just a matter of luck: as much as two people can know each other thoroughly previously, or have similar characters, that won’t affect their happiness in the slightest, as they will always find something later that will divide them. Maybe it's better to know as little as possible the defects of the person with whom

you’ll spend the rest of your life, or we’re all destined to die alone.”

Both girls burst out laughing, and in the hilarity of the moment, it was far from Mare's mind to be in someone else's thoughts; General Calore had barely admitted at first that she was pretty, and at the ball he had looked at her without any admiration, as it had happened in their subsequent meetings, where he had done nothing but criticize her with his friends. But as soon as he convinced himself  that her face barely had any nice features, he began to find that her intelligent dark eyes were able to render her expression beautiful, and although his critical eye spotted more than one symmetry flaw in her physique’s proportions, he was forced to acknowledge that she had a lean and pleasant body, and those discoveries had only been followed by others, equally embarrassing. Of all this, she was completely unaware; for her he was only a man who made himself unpleasant everywhere and didn't think she was beautiful enough to invite her to dance. Yet he began to want to know her better, and as a first step towards a direct conversation, he paid attention to her exchanges with others. This way of doing caught the girl's attention, and while they were at the Skonos’ house, where a large group had gathered, she spoke to her friend about it.

"Why was General Calore listening to my conversation with Colonel Farley?"

"It's a question that only he can answer," replied the other, "but if he does it again, let him know you're noticing his strange behavior."

Mare took her friend literally, and the girl soon found herself forced to distract her from teasing the poor young man, who seemed incredibly uncomfortable, inviting her to play and sing for the little gathering. Following her performance, it was her sister who took her place on the stool in front of the piano, and though the youngest of the Barrows had neither genius nor inspiration, vanity had provided her with determination and a pedantic and presumptuous way of doing things  that made her get everything she wanted. Mare had been listened to with much more pleasure, although her voice didn't sound so good, but Gisa, at the

end of a long concert, was still pleased to obtain praise and gratitude from everyone, except for the General, who had remained in indignant silence for that way of passing the evening, which completely excluded conversation, and was too busy with his own thoughts to notice having the owner of the house next to him until he started talking.

"What an enchanting pastime for young people!" the man exclaimed, looking at the couples, including his daughter and Mr. Samos, who had started dancing. "On the other hand there is nothing like dancing; I consider it as one of the main refinements of civil society. "

"Of course, sir; and it also has the added bonus of being in vogue among the least civilized societies in the world. Any savage can dance. "

The man just smiled, as if he had realized something that was obscure to Cal, an attitude that annoyed him immensely, but never as much as his attempt to make him dance with Miss Mare, who seemed to have no intention of giving him the honor, despite his good disposition. Her reluctance, however, hadn't hurt her in the eyes of the gentleman, who was thinking of her with a certain satisfaction when he was approached by Miss Samos.

"Can I guess the subject of your reverie?" she asked, turning her gaze to the room and covering her thin, pale lips with a glass.

"I would say not," he replied, sardonically.

"Let me try: you are considering how unbearable it would be to pass many evenings like this, in such company, and I absolutely agree with you. I was never bored that much! The nonsense, plus the noise; the nullity and the importance that all these people give themselves! What would I give to hear your comments on them! "

"Your hypothesis is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was engaged in more pleasant things: I was meditating on the great pleasure that two beautiful eyes can give. "

Miss Samos immediately stared into his face, and asked him to tell her who was the lady who had the merit of inspiring such a reflection. Cal replied intrepidly, mentioning Mare's name, but had to quickly placate his friend's sarcasm and remind her that he hadn't forgotten their agreement, if only not to attract too much attention. Unfortunately, the General couldn’t suspect that he had been overheard by the young Gisa, who, returning home, reported everything to her sister just for the sake of hearing the malice that her mother would’ve expressed towards that man so cold that he hadn't even bothered to compliment her performance.

"From the way I hear you talk, you must be the silliest girl in the neighborhood," her father retorted. "I had suspected it several times, but now I'm convinced. "

Gisa was so disconcerted that she almost began to cry, and it was only her mother's intervention, and the subsequent quarrel between her and her husband, that allowed her to reach her room undisturbed. As for Mare, she listened, since her father's opinions were always well thought out, and certainly more reliable than those of her mother or even her brothers.

"From what you say, those two have been friends all their lives, and even their parents were friends before them, so it wouldn't surprise me if they secretly agreed to get married, if they were left without a partner for too long,” Mr. Barrow decreed, putting an end to the discussion, at least aloud, as his words reverberated for days in his daughter's mind, until the importance of the news was outclassed by a letter that came directly from the Hall of the Sun: Wren had gone on horseback to a lunch with Miss Samos and Lady Haven, but she had been surprised by a thunderstorm and now remained a guest of the Samos until her indisposition, which consisted of a severe sore throat and a pounding headache that had barely allowed her to write that note, had passed. Seriously worried about the matter, and despite her father arguing that she was going to be fine, Mare had decided to visit her, even though, with the ground made extremely muddy by the rain, making the carriage completely unusable,  and given her ineptness as a horseman, she was forced to go by foot.

"How can you be so foolish?"asked her mother, rhetorically, " You won’t be presentable once you get there!”

"I'll definitely be presentable to see Wren, which is all I want," she replied, and Gisa's objections were to no avail since she was even supported by Shade and Tramy, who were willing to visit the Farleys, who lived right off the street. It was just dawn when the trio left the house and took the road to the Hall of the Sun, but as soon as she separated from her younger brothers, Mare continued along the shortcuts she remembered from when she was a child, walking briskly through field after field, climbing over fences and leaping puddles with agile impatience, eventually founding herself in sight of the house with sore ankles,

"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Barrow to his wife the next morning, while they were at breakfast, "you’re going to make a good lunch for today, because I’m right to expect an addition to our family group.”

"What do you mean, my dear? Is it perhaps Mr. Samos?” she asked, her eyes already shining. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she hoped, deep in her heart, that her daughter's stay at the Hall of the Sun had stirred the heart of its tenant, or at least his cousin, but her husband revealed the bitter reality: he was talking about his own cousin, Mr. Jesper.

"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Barrow, "I can't bear to hear his mention. Please don't talk about that hateful man."

The hateful man in question was only a few years older than her eldest son and was extremely quiet and mysterious, and just like everything else Ruth Barrow couldn't understand, she just didn't liked him. Orphan of father as a child, his mother had served at Lord Davidson’s house until her death, and as any good relative should do, he had written to his cousin to communicate it only after the funeral, as not to create any kind of fuss.

"He must be a strange one, I think," said Mare, who had only had the pleasure of meeting him when she was so young she couldn't even remember.

"I can't understand him. There's something very pompous about his style... Do you consider him an intelligent man?” asked Shade to his father.

"Maybe he once was, but I don't have high hopes, given the mixture of servility towards his benefactor and presumption, yet the letter doesn’t seem to be badly written.”

As for the mother, Mr. Jesper's letter had made much of hers grudge vanish and she was now inclined to know him with a degree of self-control that amazed everyone present, which she lost at four o'clock when he walked in, right on time as reported in the letter Mr. Barrow had received nearly a month earlier and had kept secret until then. The guest was welcomed with great courtesy, and although Mr. Barrow spoke little, the ladies were quite inclined to chatter and filled the long silences of the newcomer, a tall, slender young man, with a grave and solemn look and manners very formal. He barely sat down when he started complimenting Mrs. Barrow for having such pretty daughters; he said he had heard a lot about their beauty but, in this case, fame was inferior to reality, and he added that he had no doubts about seeing them both, in the time due, happily married. This gallantry wasn’t much appreciated by Mare but her mother, who never found fault in compliments, replied very promptly that he was too kind, and she hoped so too. The gallantries was interrupted by the announcement of the afternoon tea, and Gisa and her mother exchanged a smile when the guest complimented the beauty of their home, especially the entrance and the furnishings of the dining room. Mare noticed that their host seemed to have nothing to say but compliments: the pastries were wonderful, the tea blend divine, and so on, to the point that she soon found herself bored and only joined the conversation when forced by her father. Lord Davidson's concern for his wishes and regard for his comforts seemed very commendable, but even in this case it was mainly praise, and it was time for dinner that Mare hadn’t yet understood what that young man thought of any topic, or whether he actually had thoughts of his own that differed from those of his benefactor, a childless and heirless man who was probably going to leave all his belongings to his dear Tyton once he died.

"It’s fortunate for you to possess the talent of flattering gently. May I ask if this pleasant attentions arise from a spur of the moment, or are they the result of previous preparation?" asked the host, and he enjoyed every moment of his awkward response, sharing a hidden laugh with the eldest daughter. The poor man couldn’t have imagined that the beautiful Mare Barrow had so little regard for him, and he confided to her mother that he intended, since soon he would’ve had a beautiful house and an income that he would never even allow himself to dream of, to marry and that he would’ve chosen his cousin's eldest daughter as his first candidate, so, when Gisa expressed the desire to go out for a walk and Mare decided to join in order not to always have the stranger around, her mother suggested that it was Mr. Jesper to accompany them.

"It would be nice if you showed him around, and that way he would get to know our neighbourhood," she said, candidly. In pompous nullity on his part, and in courteous nods of assent from the cousins, they passed the time until they entered the city, after which Mr. Jesper lost all appeal, and not even particularly elegant hats could distract the two sisters from their search for a particular man in uniform, Mr. Thomas, whom they found accompanied by a charming stranger, who bowed as they passed. Mr. Thomas immediately spoke to them, and asked permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Maven, who had returned with him that day from the city and declared himself willing to buy an officer's patent for their regiment. It was the only thing he lacked to be considered perfect, as the young man had a charming appearance, with a beautiful face and figure and very pleasant manners. After being introduced he immediately revealed his ease as a conversationalist, an ease at the same time perfectly correct and unpretentious; the whole company was still intent on chatting very pleasantly when they heard the sound of horses and saw Mr. Samos and General Calore approaching. Recognizing the ladies in the group, the two gentlemen immediately headed towards them and began the usual pleasantries. Samos was the one who spoke the most, and mainly to Miss Barrow, telling her that they were headed to the Skonos house for updates regarding Wren's health, which her partner confirmed, only to turn pale when he recognized the stranger, who in turn blushed violently, arousing in the Mare a curiosity that she barely managed to restrain. A minute later Mr. Samos, without giving the impression of having seen what had happened, took his leave and continued riding with his friend, soon imitated also by the other two gentlemen. Returning home, Mare stopped at Wren's house to inform her of what happened between the two young men but although she was willing to defend both of them, or neither too, if they were all wrong, she was unable to explain a similar behaviour more than her friend. Arriving home, Mare and Gisa were informed by their mother that Colonel Farley had invited them, and with them also the new guest, through their brothers, to a small gathering the next afternoon, which would also be attended by some officers. Although the question was never asked openly, the girls anxiously waited for the time to get into the carriage only to find out if at their friend’s home they would also find Mr. Maven, and as soon as they entered, they found with pleasure that the young man must’ve received the invitation along with his friend Mr. Thomas, as they recognized his voice. Having learned this information, and having all settled down, Mr. Jesper was free to look around and admire, and was so impressed with the size and decor of the room he said he could almost imagine being in his benefactor's summer breakfast room, a comparison which at first didn’t seem very gratifying and that after an accurate explanation, which kept him busy until the arrival of the gentlemen, only convinced Gisa. When Mr. Maven entered the room, Mare realized the admiration she felt at their first meeting wasn’t  in the least unreasonable: the officers were respectable and distinguished men and only the best were present at the reception, but he was far above all in figure, features and way of doing and moving, making him the lucky one to whom almost all eyes turned feminine, but it was Mare who was considered very lucky when he chose to sit right next to her and immediately began to converse, even if only about the humidity of the evening and the possibility of a rainy season. With rivals like Mr. Maven and the other officers to contend with him the girls attentions, Mr. Jesper and his long silences seemed to sink in insignificance but he still had, at intervals, a gentle company in Diana, who was used to being surrounded by men in uniform and didn’t particularly feel their charm. Once the game tables were set up, however, he had the opportunity to reciprocate: unfortunately Mare had been invited to play by Mr. Maven and Gisa by his friend, so she had found herself with Bree and Shade, but short of a partner.

"At the moment I know little about this game," he said, "but I'll be happy to improve if you will teach me."

Obviously the exchange hadn’t escaped the eldest of the Barrow sisters, just as the disappointment in her younger brother’s expression, but she said nothing, determined not to allow Gisa to completely grab the newcomer’s attention, who seemed, however, more interested in conversing with her than in the game and with extreme delicacy, and joy of Mare, who couldn’t wait to know the details of his relationship with General Calore, asked the distance from there to the Hall of the Sun and how long the cause of such embarrassment the previous day had been there.

"For about a month," Mare said, and then, reluctant to drop the subject, she added, "he's a person with very extended properties in the capital, from what I know."

"You’re right," replied Mr. Maven, “and you couldn't have met a person more suitable than me to give you certain information about it, since I have had very a close relationships with his family since childhood."

Mare couldn't help but be surprised, a reaction that seemed to push the young man to open up further with her, albeit still very cautiously, to the point that she had to reassure him that no one in the Stilts felt great sympathy towards him.

"I certainly can't pretend to be sorry," Maven said, after a short pause, "that he or anyone else can be judged as they deserves, but with him I think it doesn't happen often. The world is blinded by his wealth and his importance, or intimidated by his haughty and peremptory ways, and sees him just how he wants to be seen. "

"I would judge him, for what little I know him," Mare ventured, "a man with a bad temper. "

Maven shook his head, as if to say it wasn't just that.

"He is a cruel man, and his behaviour towards me was scandalous, but I sincerely believe that I could forgive him everything, really everything, except having betrayed the hopes and tarnished the memory of the father. "

Mare's interest grew, and she listened with a lot of participation, but the delicacy of the subject prevented her from asking further questions and so he began to talk about more general things, until he came to the reasons that had led him to accept a place in the regiment:" It was mainly the prospect of stable and good acquaintances. I knew it was a very respectable and pleasant regiment, and my friend Thomas further tempted me with his description of the current quarter and the many attentions the whole society has towards the officers, which, I confess, I need;  I suffered a disappointment and my spirit cannot stand loneliness. I need commitments and social life. Military isn’t what I was meant for, but the circumstances made it advantageous. The late Mr. Calore, as my godfather, had left me a small inheritance; he was a good man and was very fond of me, so he had thought to leave me something in his will, but when he died, a small formal irregularity left me no hope in regard of the law. An honourable man would’ve had no doubts as to what his intentions were, but his son preferred to, asserting I had lost all rights due to my extravagance. The sure thing is I can’t really blame myself for doing something to deserve it: I have a firry and reckless nature, this I must admit, and perhaps I may sometimes have expressed my opinions about and to him, but I don’t remember anything worse. Either way, the fact is that we’re very different people, and he hates me, and I nearly hate him as much, to the point that I would’ve publicly shamed him, if only I were able to forget his father’s goodness.”

Elizabeth honoured him for such sentiments, and he seemed more beautiful than ever as he expressed them, though she still had a few questions left, such as the motivation that might have prompted the General to behave that way, though she remembered being in the Hall of the Sun while he boasted his relentless resentment and unforgiving temper. Of course Maven couldn’t be affable on the subject, nor impartial towards him, so Mare immersed herself again in her own thoughts, only to exclaim shortly after: "Treating like that the godson, the friend, the father's favourite!"

She had to admit, the man's words, who had seemed so lovable to her, had troubled her deeply. It was as if a family member had decided to treat Diana or Wren that way if they found themselves in a situation of need, an inconceivable thought, which made her blood boil. It was disgusting, and he marvelled at how the General's own pride hadn’t led him to be fair to someone who had been his companion since childhood.

"It surprised me too," replied Maven, "since almost all his actions are traceable to pride, his only advisor and friend, who brought him closer to virtue more than any other feeling. But none of us are consistent, and in his behaviour towards me acted stronger impulses, preventing him from being generous as the poor and his tenants know him, and so dishonouring the family by failing to the qualities that make its name popular.”

What if Shade lived

Shade was a valuable asset for the Scarlet Guard, maybe the most valuable they had, and as it happened to George Martin with Robb Stark (as he said in an interview, he had to kill him off otherwise he would’ve conquered the Seven Kingdoms without all the drama that whoever read ASOIAF or watched GOT knows very well) Victoria Aveyard had to do the same, otherwise things would’ve been “too simple” for the good guys. His death shocked Mare and the readers very much, but I consider it extremely wasted as: 

we already knew how Mare mourned and missed him since she believed he was dead in RQ

although he remained her favorite their relationship had still changed, showing how even if two people love each other and are incredibly similar they can grow and take different paths even if in the same family

she was already scarred by other things and at the end of the series she would’ve been way more even without his death

Farley lost again someone she loved and we already know that her reaction to pain is anger.

To balance these points, and still leave the same psychological outcome in the characters, I think it would’ve made more sense if:

one of Mare's older brothers had died, leaving her wondering how things would’ve changed if she had prevented them from fighting as they’re Reds in a war full of people with abilities and leaving the Barrow’s still incomplete but with a different loss to manage 

the Colonel had died, leaving Farley to wonder if she couldn’t have fixed things before his premature departure and what would’ve changed with Clara’s birth (not to mention the fact that I like to imagine that after Clara they would’ve had another girl called Madeline and, after several years and long debates in Diana’s mind, a boy called Willis)

Either way, by analyzing more pratically what would’ve changed if Shade hadn't died, the first thing that comes to my mind is that Mare’s captivity in KC would’ve been way shorter, partly because of Shade's ability, partly because he and Cal would’ve come up with a plan in less than ten minutes and acting on their own, with Farley and Kilorn’s help, they would’ve rescued her. In general, KC and WS’s events would’ve taken much less time, to the point that I think they could’ve been a single book.

What if Elara had survived and what if Maven had a kid with Iris

There are two different options to this question: Elara survives and returns to the role she had in GS or she’s captured by the Scalet Guard. With Elara to force her son's hand, and, let's face it, reign in his place, as she has always been a puppeteer, her whispers the threads she used to move her puppets, Maven’s reign would’ve been much more dangerous. First of all, I don't think she would’ve ever allowed her son to publicly offend the Samos, with the possibility that they would turn against them, but she would’ve created another complex scheme to kill Evangeline by putting the blame on the Scarlet Guard or on Cal's allies, for then team up with the Cygnets anyway, although I think the alliance would’ve been far less shaky with her to manage it and Iris would’ve been the condescending queen necessary to allow Maven to have the heir who would’ve made his position on the throne safer. Knowing her thirst for power she would still have sinned of arrogance and once Cenra died she would’ve attacked Tiora, obviously always in a subtle way and by putting the blame on someone else, so that Maven's son would become heir to Norta and the Lakelands, creating a single, large state. Without Elara's whispers if Maven and Iris had had a child it would have been through an act that bordered on rape, and once things had gone as they went in WS I'm not sure Iris would’ve brought the baby with her in the Lakelands therefore he would’ve ended up exiled, as it happened in the past with children in uncomfortable positions, in Prairie. On the other hand, if Elara had survived but had been captured by the Scarlet Guard, she would’ve died anyway as I don't think that, although those closest to the Mare would’ve proposed it, an exchange would’ve ever been made between them, Command too conscious of her political power and of the danger that the woman's ability entailed.

What if Cal had said no in KC

Assuming you are talking about rejecting the crown, surely there would’ve been less romantic drama in WS, at least until Maven's death, but things would’ve been politically much more difficult since, if Cal had abdicated before his brother's death, Maven would’ve been the actual heir and it wouldn’t have helped anyone, so he should’ve accepted the crown anyway to convince the Silvers to join the cause and at the same time make Maven illegitimate while only a limited circle should’ve known that his effective intent was to abdicate once the kingdom was reunited, perhaps with a lot of signed documents as I can't imagine the Scarlet Guard base the outcome of the war on another Silver prince’s word after Maven’s betrayal. But if he had actually refused they would’ve had to fight not Maven’s kingdom but monarchy in general, therefore losing the support of many Silver, although I am convinced that they would still have been able to win, although probably with many more dead, thanks to the help from Montfort and a couple of allies convinced that Cal's decision was wise, probably the Lower Houses and common Silvers who would’ve benefited from the abolition of the monarchy and racial laws

What if Montfort was involved with the SG before RQ’s events

It would make complete sense because the SG’s purpose is to obtain a government like Montfort’s. Obviously, even in this case, things would’ve been much faster and much safer and the saga would’ve been much shorter, not to mention the fact that newbloods are not new there and therefore the SG could’ve started talking about Reds with abilities much earlier, which would’ve given Norta’s Red population much more courage.

What if Mare accepted Montfort's offer in GS

In hindsight, it would’ve made sense as they would’ve attacked Corros prison much better prepared, not to mention the fact that Mare is a wonderful trainer, so she would’ve had the best team ever. Also the electricon squad really has too little space in the saga while I would’ve liked to see them bond further.

What if Mare wasn't captured by Maven

Again there are several options: if Maven had captured the others but Mare had managed to escape she would still have tried to negotiate for that exchange, once she realized she had no other way to save them, while if he killed all of them the entire outcome of the war would’ve been different since Cal would’ve died leaving Maven as the rightful king, not to mention the profound psychological damage Mare would’ve faced after she left most of her friends, family and her boyfriend to die. The last option is that they weren’t intercepted at all and managed to get to the Choke, but the possible outcomes are too many to be analyzed and the various results would’ve incredibly modified the subsequent books in completely different ways. Honestly, if I can dream and not force Mare to endure captivity, I would’ve liked if she and others had managed to escape but someone, including a person she cared about but not Cal, since this would’ve made things more difficult, had been captured. Maven would try to organize some kind of exchange and Mare would accept but all the others would prevent her, showing her that she wasn’t selfish to save herself and reminding her that she isn’t only a weapon but also a powerful political pawn. Obviously Maven, keeping his word, would’ve killed the hostages and this would’ve hurt Mare but certainly less than being imprisoned at his mercy.

What if Maven survived

I think that @elane-in-the-shadows has written something about it and I recommend you take a look at her blog because I think it's exactly how things should’ve gone but if I'm wrong about the author and someone knows what fanfiction I'm talking about (where Maven escapes before Mare could find him) feel free to let me know and I’ll add the link here because it’s a masterpiece

What if Tiberias Vl died before RQ

If he died of natural causes just before RQ Cal would’ve been king and would’ve listened to what Julian claimed Elara did, and he would probably have read his mother's diary before, consequently exlingin her or killing her if he considered it the only possible option to please everyone without certainly considering that Maven could’ve acted against him as, and it’s stated repeated several times, Cal is definitely blind about his brother therefore the saga would’ve been mainly about Maven who wants revenge and consequently the throne for which his mother had fought so much and performed such horrible acts. I can already imagine Maven saying he can marry Evangeline in Cal’s place so that he can stay with Mare when he’s just plotting with Volo Samos for the Kingdom of the Rift to split from the rest of Norta and then launches a consequent attack to conquer it entirely, promising peace between their kingdoms and a legitimate throne for House Samos. If Tiberias VI died instead shortly after Maven’s birth Elara would’ve tried to control Cal as she did with Maven but according to the bloodline the regent would’ve been Julian, therefore it wouldn’t have ended well for her anyway, which is why I consider that the plan devised in RQ tremendously brilliant since it contemplates years of waiting but strikes at the right time, so much so that many High House believed the story woven by her and supported her son, at least as long as she was there to control him and make him seem less insane.

What if Mare didn't fall into the arena

"And would we be the barbarians?" Warren burst out, his forehead pressed against the bars, perhaps in the hope of distracting her tormentor.

But everyone ignored him and the prince knelt to look her in the eye. Not that it mattered, or that it made any difference, but she gathered all the forces she still had and hit him on the nose, breaking it. He let the sentinel be his avenger as she pierced her flesh, cutting her nerves, with blades made of her own blood. Farley continued to breathe through clenched teeth, repeating to herself that she could bear the pain if she would’ve spared it to her companions, until the prince ordered to stop and a skin healer crouched beside her. Farley nearly collapsed as he gazed absently at the arm pierced by a myriad of blades of frozen blood that healed quickly and regained color. Obviously that wasn’t an act of kindness: they were treating her just to start over, except that they had no way because a terrifying voice rumbled down the flight of stairs and reached them. When Ptolemus Samos went down the last step and hugged his sister Farley he let out a curse. He had been injured in the shoulder but had also been treated and now he was more dangerous than ever as he looked furiously at the prisoners and made a threatening move towards them. The metal bars shivered and screeched against the cement to which they were anchored with a terrifying sound. The prince tried to stop him and so did his sister and the sentries. Warren and Walsh back off, leaning against the wall, but he was a hunter and as such he would attack the weaker. Driven by adrenaline, ignoring the fact that he was much taller than her and could’ve killed her only by manipulating his clothes, Farley threw herself at him. Taken aback, the Samos' eldest son stepped back and Mare was quick enough to squeeze her fingers full of sparks around his muscular neck and release an electric shock that made him stagger and finally collapse on the ground, convulsing. His sister rushed to his side and reached out to her brother's face but got a shock and was forced to back away with a grimace of anger which fortunately turned to Mare more than her. Once the farce was finished, or was probably simply moved to another location thanks to Maven's words, Farley approached Tristan, who could barely sit up. Walsh had fixed a new bandage, tighter and more precise, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

"Now we're even." she said, resting her head on his bony shoulder. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to delude herself for a couple of hours of being outdoors again, hidden in some ruin, as before that mission, before entering Norta and discovering how tremendously dangerous it could be. Even in the Lakeland the Silvers were terrible, but sometimes they didn’t demonstrate that cruel wit. Don't forget your mother and sister, her father's familiar voice said. And how could she? Even her distorted reflection in those too bright bars reminded her of them, so she closed her eyes.

“Any idea where we go next?” she asked, like the Colonel, unable to bear the heavy silence. After all, he was her father and they had once been very close. But he turned away from the wall, frowning, reminding her again that nothing was left of her parent and that only her superior was in front of her.

“You know that’s not how it works.”

She obviously knew, she had been an officer for two years and passed  two others as an oathed soldier, not to mention that she had spent a lifetime in the shadow of the Guard: no one knows more than they must, no one is told anything beyond their operation, their squadron and their immediate superiors because information was the most dangerous of their weapons. They learned that after decades of failed uprising, all laid low by one captured Red in the hands of a Silver whisperer. Even the best trained soldier cannot resist an assault of the mind. Every once in a while she wondered what they would find in hers, though she really didn't want to know. Surely her family, as it was before the flood, and then dates, names and operations, enough to cripple the last two years of work in the Lakelands but not enough to destroy it. They would also find King Orrec’s name, if only she hadn't had it tattooed on her left wrist. The names of those who you will hate and love the most, another divine condemnation, although many within the Scarlet Guard suspect it was just another way to control the masses. Diana also thought so, but wasn’t convinced that it was completely Silvers’ work but more than they had benefited from something they couldn’t control, just as they did with their powers.

“Captain Farley.”

Diana turned. It had been years since he last called her with her real name but it was fine, for various reasons.

“Colonel” she replied, and he finally looked at her, his good eye still a familiar shade of blue, filled for a brief moment with regret. She wasn't ready for another discussion, she didn't have the strength to deal with it, therefore she kept still under his quiet, quick observation. Everything was a test with him, it had always been, although to a lesser extent. At first, when she was just a little girl, she liked the feeling and did everything to make him proud and happy, but now he was getting old and his demands were increasingly difficult to achieve.

“What do you know about Norta?”

She grinned harshly. So they’ve finally decided to expand out. It was now clear for some time that the Lakelands were not fertile ground for the kind of rebellion they wanted to lead: too many cultivated areas, too many uninhabited spaces, too many memories for many of them. Norta was a breath of fresh air, with its coasts and immense capital. Moreover, the alliance with Piedmont must have intrigued the Command: once they conquered two kingdoms like these, breaking down the Cygnet monarchy would have been much easier.

"Another monarchy where the Reds must work or conscript to perpetrate the war that has been going on with the Lakelands for almost a century. Their king is Tiberias Calore the Sixth, a burner, fitting opposite to the nymph kings of the Lakelands. They should be easier to infiltrate since it’s half the size of the Lakelands with comparable population but we will have to be careful: a more advanced basis of infrastructures also involves many more controls.”

Outside, the thunder rumbled again, closer than before. So they would go to Norta to do exactly what someone long before them had started in the Lakelands. Her body already buzzed with anticipation: she had been waiting for that occasion for a long time and she wouldn’t let it escape.

                         ------------------------------------------------------

The Chokes had a smell, a set of ash, smoke and corpses that remained on the soldiers like a sticky lover, sometimes even when they came back home. The veterans used to say that it enters your nose, but Shade was more convinced that it penetrated your skin and went down to your bones, becoming an integral part of you: you could be convinced that you got rid of it, but that smell of burnt carrion always came back when you least expected it, it didn’t matter how often you washed yourself or how hard you rubbed, because it was something intangible, more a memory than something physical. Some went crazy because of this feeling, he had seen them. In the beginning they behave as if they were well, maybe a little down, but when you are at war you are never too happy and usually no one notices it until the irritability and the unprovoked anger came, which usually resulted in severe paranoia and hallucinations, and this was what happened to those who were lucky. Even Shade’s skin began to be sticky, but that could be sweat, soil or blood: sometimes at the front it was difficult to distinguish them, either on someone’s clothes or on the ground, or at least this was what he repeated himself until exhaustion. That's why he had missed the monthly reading of the names, although he still hoped to meet his Diana, to live a normal and never completely satisfying, life, and why he was walking in the middle of the woods, risking death penalty, careful to put his feet right where three people before him put theirs, wearing his uniform turned upside down: to not go crazy, to have a chance to live a life worthy of being called such and above all to allow his family and all those who came after to do so. Wasn't that a worthy reason to fight, compared to earning a few miles of land on which even the grass would never grow again, by how much it was soaked in blood and dust? He hoped so, or he would have ended up just like all those poor souls who had lost their reason in the trenches.

"Here they are," Corporal Eastree hissed, snatching him from his dark thoughts. Shade leaned forward to study the three Lakelanders. The first to attract his attention was a girl nearly his age, tall and so pale she could be mistaken for a Silver, with thin straight blond hair and eyes colder than ice. She seemed annoyed, although Shade couldn't understand from what, but he also saw that this was all a facade: certainly she was a tough woman, but she had to maintain that forced detachment and that tough expression to enforce her rank. Thus in the Scarlet Guard there was no place for humanity and the feelings it entailed. Next to her was a boy nearly the same age, tall and thin as well, partly hidden behind the large rifle he was aiming at them. He seemed tense, as if he were about to shoot, be he remained incredibly still, as if he were used to being ready to kill someone for hours. He had to be a sniper, just as Corporal Eastree had been before the Lakelanders captured her and cut off both her trigger finger. The other woman was older and it was evident that, unlike the two younger elements that formed the small group, she had served in the trenches. She had lost an ear to a frostbite but she doesn’t hid the deformity, her blond hair pulled back tightly. Corporal Eastree must have made her own assessments too, as she came out of the bush with her hands up, to show that they had no intention of harming them, imitated by her subordinates.

“We’re the ones.” she said, but the younger girl didn’t seem convinced and asked for further confirmation, with which she didn’t appear particularly satisfied, perhaps because of the blatant anger in Corporal Eastree speech, although the woman had every right to be angry, considering that the war had taken everything away from her. Moreover, everyone would have had the nerves on edge to have a sniper, used to shoot from far greater distances, with a precision weapon pointed at their head. As if she had read his mind, the girl nodded to her companion, who relaxed his finger on the trigger just a little, but not enough to prevent Shade from throwing himself into the conversation and answering the next question instead of his superior, earning a grin from the girl.

“We best make this quick,” Eastree interrupted them, aware that no one would have won an argument against him armed with sarcasm and a title borrowed by the military. “Your lot might protect your names, but we have no use for such things since they have our blood and our faces. This is private Florins.” she started, pointing to the girl behind her. For anyone who didn't know, the two could have been mistaken for relatives, but Florins still had a family at home while Eastree had nothing but her subordinates, for whom she would have sacrificed anything.

“Private Reese” she continued, pointing to the next boy. They had been recruited together, he and Shade, but Reese had managed to convince the sorting officers that he would be more useful as supply soldier, so he was carried cases of ammunition and food all day instead of being in the open field.

“And…” she tried to end, but Shade interrupted her and closed the distance that separated him from those who would be his new allies and if all went the right way, maybe even a good escape from that hell.

“Barrow, Shade Barrow.”