Page 18 of The Last War We Ever Fought

“I meant, my friend Rowan.” He washed his mouthful of food with some water and sighed. “There isn’t much to know.”

“Impossible.”

“Oh, the opposite. She has no favourite colour, no hobbies and such. If she were a book, she’d be a notepad. Blank and empty.”

Maybe because no one had ever even dared fill her pages. “I don’t care about her hobbies, Daniel. Tell me about her.”

He cleared his throat, looking down at the table in thought, his brows pulling together as he tried to recall. “She’s an orphan. Mmm, a soldier for some time now and the queen awarded her the title she has now a few years back after she helped the army overtake a walled city by filling their venting system with smoke.” He shook his head. “I was just a bladesmith's errand boy at the time, but I remember the songs they sang her that day or when the queen rode to our camp to hand her gratitude. That is when I knew she had to be the one to train me. A few days after that I became her apprentice. After some relentless begging.” Daniel hummed, trying to think harder. “She also took quite an interest in mathematics when we took over a scholar city a few years back. She says everything has an angle if you look at it in the right way. Never understood what she meant, I failed mathematics as a boy.” He turned to Elijah, a worried look crossing his stare. “What is it that you are looking to find out?”

“Nothing in particular. Wipe that strange look off your face. You can’t protect her from me even if the Gods had given you that power.”

Daniel’s face shifted even further, and he suddenly no longer looked like a boy. “You wish to harm her?”

“On the contrary. I want her to harm me.”

His confused brows shot up. “Eh?”

Elijah stood, patting his shoulder. “Mathematics of a sort, Daniel. Do not worry yourself with it.”

She was waiting for him when he left the dining area. “Stay away from him.”

“I have very little interest in your friend, Rowan.”

“Then don’t speak to him.”

A sharp pang of jealousy crossed his sight. “He spoke to me. It would have been rude to not speak back.”

Her eyes narrowed on him before she turned on her heels and left.

He would have followed after her, but she looked like she needed the time alone. Especially after he’d seen the look on her face earlier on after she’d given the three soldiers their poisoned food. The drown of her gaze in utter desolation.

Sleep was hard to come for her despite the exhaustion in her bones after a whole day of training and attempting to evade being found by the pesky God of War. Sleep was even harder to come especially when a certain frog had taken to singing its sonnets right outside her tent.

Throwing her blanket off, Rowan groaned.

The damn frog. Wouldn’t. Shut. Up.

Grabbing her sword, she slid her cold feet through her boots, not even bothering to tie them, and stomped outside.

Where was it?

She chased the sound and then crouched by a bush, squinting and trying to catch a look inside it.

“What are you doing?” a smooth, cold voice whispered right in her ear.

Rowan jerked backwards, falling into mud as she raised her sword at him. Surrendered, she dropped her entire body to the ground, throwing her arms wide and sighing as she sank in the dirt.

At least the stupid frog had stopped croaking.

She could fall asleep right there as she was.

The one second of relaxation came to a very abrupt halt when she realised what she was wearing. A long man’s shirt about five sizes too big and cotton trousers that were one step close to being transparent on the next wash.

Rowan sat up, so fast that the God of War took a step back to avoid being tackled. “Have you no manners, you absolute psychopath?”

“Psychopath?” He blinked. “I’m not the one going after a small amphibian carrying a sword. At least give the poor frog a fighting chance.”

Just then, the frog croaked, almost as if to validate his words, bringing Rowan one step closer to insanity. “Shut up!” she screamed at it, feeling the lack of sleep make her sway on her feet.