Page 91 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“The grain stores won’t last through the winter,” the blacksmith says grimly.

My eyes go back to the sacks, and the truth lands too slowly. That’s everything they have left.

“The Davriks and Thornwicks are hoarding the supply, driving prices so high no one around here can afford to eat. And the crown does nothing.” He practically spits the last words.

“We’ve seized three of their shipments in the past two months,” Grier says. “Redistributed everything to the villages that needed it most.”

The blacksmith’s eyebrows rise. “That was your people?”

“That was us,” Grier says, though there’s no pride in his voice. “But they’re adapting, hiring more guards, and changing routes. It’s getting harder to hit them without risking lives.”

“What do we do?” the healer asks.

“We keep trying and find new ways in,” Grier says. “I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I promise you this…no one in this village is going to starve if I can help it.”

The room is silent for a moment. Then the blacksmith steps forward.

“Thank you, Commander. For everything.” The blacksmith clasps Grier’s arm, then adds quietly, “Glad to see you back to yourself. After the fire, I wasn’t sure you’d find your way to us again. I know it’s been a long road.”

A shadow passes over Grier’s face, and he nods once, and neither elaborates.

The healer nods, eyes wet. The older woman just watches Grier with something like hope.

“I can help.”

Everyone turns. Rosie steps forward with her chin lifted high.

“I have magic. Strong magic.” She swallows. “I can grow grain. Enough to get the families through the winter.”

“Rosie—” I step forward, grabbing her arm. “That’s too dangerous. What if anyone finds out…”

She turns to me, and there’s no hesitation in her eyes, just quiet certainty.

“Finn. There are children starving.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “I have the power to help them. I need to do this.”

Before I can argue, she crouches down and presses her palms to the dirt ground. Everyone goes still. Then tiny green shoots push through, unfurling, stretching upward until stalks of wheat rise from the ground, golden heads heavy with grain.

The blacksmith stumbles back, and the healer gasps. The older woman just stares, her sharp eyes softening into wonder.

Rosie stands, brushing off her hands, a smile breaking across her face. “I can do more, so much more.”

“No.” I move in front of her, lowering my voice. “Rosie, listen to me. If the Davriks and Thornwicks find out you’re the reason their inflated grain prices fall, they’re not going to take it sitting down. They’ll come after you.”

“Then I’ll be careful.”

I glance at Grier. I need to shut this down. Tell her it stops here and tell everyone it has to be enough.

I open my mouth.

Grier’s hand lifts slightly. The message is clear, not here, not like this.

I stand down, even though Rosie’s exposed now, and it’s on all of us.

“What you’ve offered tonight,” the older woman says, and we both turn, “will help the families who need it most survive the winter.” She takes Rosie’s hands in hers. “Thank you. From all of us.”

Rosie squeezes back with her eyes bright. “It’s the least I can do.”

I watch her stand there, surrounded by people who finally have hope because of her. Watching her become exactly who she’s meant to be, I’m realizing, with a clarity that steals my breath, that I’d burn the world down before I let anyone hurt her.