The towel in Zarvana's hand stopped moving. Her gaze darkened, the light from the oil lamps gleaming off the sharpened edges of her irises.
"Is that a threat?"
"No," the woman said, head tilting again, as if amused by the idea. "It's a certainty. And since I've grown fond of you, I would hate for you to lose your life so easily. It would be… wasteful."
Zarvana's teeth flashed but there was no humor in it. She crossed the room in three slow, deliberate steps until she stood face-to-face with the hooded woman. The height difference was minimal, but the weight of Zarvana's presence pressed down like a storm ready to break.
"You're not telling me everything."
"Of course not." The woman smiled beneath the hood, unfazed. "You wouldn't believe me even if I did."
Zarvana's arms crossed over her chest. "Try me."
The woman's fingers shifted on her staff again.
"My master… is strange," she admitted at last, her tone thoughtful, even distant. "Everything he does seems without purpose at first glance. Nonsensical, even. But in time… you'll see. He doesn't act without reason."
Zarvana's gaze sharpened, her mind already piecing together the implications.
"Your master," she repeated slowly. "Peony's Apathy. He's a man, isn't he?"
The hooded woman gave a faint nod. "You'll meet him soon enough. All you need to do is bring Raika and Veyn with you. Think of them as... insurance for your life."
"Anything else?" Zarvana pressed, suspicion lining her voice.
There was a flicker of approval, maybe amusement, in the woman's shadowed gaze.
"Yes. Bring your men."
Zarvana's jaw tightened. Her chin lifted, pride and defiance bristling in her stance.
"I don't hand over my warriors like offerings on an altar," she growled. "They are mine. They fight beside me because they choose to. No one takes them from me."
"I thought you didn't care about most beings," she said, almost curious now. "That was your reputation. Cruel and detached."
Zarvana's mouth twisted, not in anger but in something colder.
"I don't care for most," she admitted. "But the ones who fight for me? Who share my bed and stand at my side when the blades are drawn? They are mine. And I protect what is mine."
There was a silence that stretched between them. Then the woman exhaled softly, almost as if amused by herself.
"It amazes me," she murmured. "Even now, there are still those who care for their partners. That kind of bond is rare these days."
"Spare me the philosophy. You want me at the meeting. You want them there. You still haven't told me why."
"You're vital to my master's plan," the woman said simply.
"What plan?"
A faint smirk played at the edge of the woman's lips. "You'll see."
Zarvana's hands flexed at her sides, aching for something to crush. But before she could press again, the hooded woman shifted the conversation as smoothly as turning a page.
"I wonder," she said suddenly, her voice lighter, "do they ever get jealous of each other? Your men?"
Zarvana blinked, momentarily thrown.
"What?"
"You seem like someone who inspires devotion. That kind of passion… can burn both ways."
Zarvana scowled, but the faintest flicker of pride crossed her face.
"They know their place," she said. "They understand what I give them."
"Mm." The hooded woman gave a vague nod. "I imagine they do. And I imagine you wouldn't want them to die because you refused an offer."
Zarvana exhaled slowly. "You're manipulative."
"I'm pragmatic," the woman corrected. "And you are too. That's why you'll come. Bring Raika. Bring Veyn. Bring your beloveds. You'll see the truth soon enough. I'm a Priestess."
There was a long pause. Zarvana's fists unclenched. Her shoulders dropped by a fraction.
"Fine," she said at last. "But if this is a trap—"
"You'll kill me," the woman finished. "I expected nothing less. Though you're not even going to last a minute doing so."
Zarvana studied her for another long moment. Then, with a sharp breath through her nose, she turned away, calling for her guards.
The hooded woman faded back into shadow with a faint rustle of her cloak.
"I'll see you soon, Chieftain."
And then she was gone.
Zarvana stood alone in the silence of her chambers, the weight of choices pressing heavy against her skin. She didn't like being forced into anything.
But for her men… she would walk into hell itself. And she had a feeling this was going to be close.
°°°°°°°
The Ice Rain had finally stopped.
The underground village carved into stone and frost, slowly came alive with the sound of departure.
Raika stood at the edge of the main path, her fur-lined cloak pulled tight around her shoulders, watching as the visiting tribes packed their things.
Massive mammoths, covered in thick, shaggy hide and trailing heavy sleds, groaned under their burdens as they were led away. Hunters slung axes and bows over their backs. Shamans whispered rites into the cold air. Children laughed as they ran between tents being stripped down and bundled away.
One by one, the tribes of the North, each began their long journeys home. They had come to witness Zarvana's Mate Choosing Ritual, to give respect, or to gawk. But none would linger longer than necessary. Not in this place.
Not when memories of the Ice Rain still haunted them.
Raika's gaze lingered on one group of warriors. Their cloaks were ragged. Their weapons old and notched. They moved quickly, without speaking, glancing to the holes in the sky, even though the rain had long since passed.
"They don't stay," Veyn said quietly beside her.
Raika turned to him. His breath misted the cold air in lazy clouds, his hood drawn back, his hair drifting over his brow. He was watching the same group she was.
"No," she agreed. "They never do."
It was true. Few tribes trusted the village beneath the Hollow's Mouth. Not because of the tribe itself but because it was here, decades ago, where the Ice Rain first fell without warning, without mercy. Entire villages had been buried under white, torn apart by freezing winds. Even the hardiest of them remembered.
Raika shifted closer to Veyn as they stood watching the slow exodus. She could feel the heat of him through the layers of her cloak. A strange ache coiled in her chest, something restless.
She didn't speak for a while, just listening to the shuffle of boots on stone, the cries of animals, the wind winding low through the tunnel mazes.
"Do you ever wonder," she said eventually, "why we stay?"
Veyn didn't answer at first. His hand lifted, slowly, and he rested it on the hilt of his knife.
"We stay," he said finally, "because we're too stubborn to run."
Raika smiled faintly at that, but it didn't ease the heaviness in her belly.
"Stubborn," she murmured. "Or foolish. I suppose that's true."
She shifted closer, almost without thinking. Her hand brushed his forearm, lingering there. He didn't move away. The silence stretched between them, warm despite the cold. Raika tilted her head up, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed at him. The ache inside her deepened, sharp and sweet.
Her other hand found his chest, fingers brushing the edge of his collarbone, lingering there. He didn't stop her. His breath slowed, but he made no move to pull away. The air between them thinned. Raika rose to her toes, close enough to catch the faint scent of smoke and steel on his skin. Her heart pounded.
"Ahem."
The sound cut through the moment like a blade.
Raika froze, her face still tilted up, lips parted. Slowly, she turned her head.
Seyna stood a few paces away, her arms crossed.
"The Chieftain's calling for you," Seyna said. "Both of you. It's urgent."
Raika lowered herself flat on her feet again, her hand slipping from Veyn's chest. Her face didn't flush, though. She wasn't the type. Instead, she exhaled slowly through her nose, turning to face Seyna fully.
"It's not about the Mate Choosing Ritual, is it?"
Seyna's mouth tugged into something that wasn't quite a frown. "No. It's something else."
Veyn was already adjusting his cloak. He said nothing but his gaze lingered on Raika for a heartbeat longer before he turned to follow.
Raika grinned and fell in step beside Seyna as they made their way toward the Chieftain's house. Her gait was casual, but there was a glimmer in her eyes.
"You're smiling," Raika said lightly.
Seyna arched a brow but didn't look at her.
"You're glowing," Raika pressed, smirking as she leaned in. "I thought you didn't get tired. But your steps are sluggish. Did you overdo it last night?"
Seyna exhaled through her nose. "No."
Raika's grin widened. "I think you did."
Seyna didn't answer. Her silence was answer enough.
"You spent the night with your husband, didn't you?" Raika teased, nudging her elbow against Seyna's arm. "And not just watching guard, I'd wager."
Seyna kept walking, pace steady, but Raika caught the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth. That was enough.
"You're always so serious," Raika mused, "but now… look at you."
Seyna shot her a sharp look. "You're going to make me regret bringing you."
Raika only laughed. "No, you won't."
Veyn chuckled under his breath. Raika's grin softened but the teasing glint never quite left her eyes.
They climbed the stone steps toward the Chieftain's longhouse. The door loomed ahead, carved with the history of the tribe, of warriors, of beasts, of endless snow. Raika's fingers brushed the hilt of her blade as they neared it.