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The clan cheered upon seeing her, a flurry of movement that Iryana was too frazzled to process. Tonhald was at her side, helping her out of her coat, and Aunt Emadya gathered up the winter gear to be hung to dry. Kladara took her weapons to be stored. She was left standing there empty-handed, eyes wide. Then she realized how closely everyone was watching her.

Iryana plastered on a fake smile and looked around stiffly for a place to sit. Hadima scooted over to make room between her and Misha.

“Did you find anything?” Edvar asked.

Her Uncle Byorsh interrupted him, “Did that general behave?”

“How many dakii did you kill out there?” Kladara demanded.

Her smile twitched. She just had to get through the meal without vomiting or bursting into tears. That wouldn’t be too hard, right? But she was so afraid, and looking at her clan made it impossible to ignore how deeply she feared for them too.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the First chastised. “Let her eat.”

The clan seemed to slump in unison. Trying to prepare herself for normalcy, Iryana climbed onto the bench between her sisters.

“Hungry?” Hadima asked softly from the left.

Iryana blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the table blankly. She nodded.

While Hadima started making her a plate of salted pork, picked roots, and sour rye bread, Iryana turned to Misha.

“How was your birthday?” she asked, hating that she’d missed it.

Misha hesitated ever so slightly, but she answered with a small smile. “It was good. I convinced Uncle Dinhal to let me stand at the wall with him.”

A genuine smile broke through her face. “Why am I not surprised?”

“She was still talking about it days later,” Hadima added with a chuckle, pushing a plate in front of Iryana.

“I was worried you’d miss the festival,” Misha admitted, avoiding eye contact.

Iryana watched her sister as she wrestled her emotions down. “I promised the First I would be back. She would have stripped me naked and made me sleep in the courtyard if I was late.”

That made both her sisters laugh: Hadima’s a gentle chuckle while Misha outright snorted. Iryana tried to embrace the distraction, but the joy fled too quickly.

War was coming.

“Helping out at the Cavta Post went okay?” she asked Hadima, voice weaker than before.

“It was fine. They have an unforged guardian with a lot of potential. I left them with a lot of notes and assignments to work on. They’re going to come here next.” She sounded a little strange, nervous, but Iryana didn’t trust herself to read anyone properly right now.

“That’ll be good.”

Iryana ate methodically, barely tasting her food. A table-wide conversation started up, but she couldn’t bring herself to join in. She tried at least, nodding at the right times and offering the occasional smile, but her insides felt empty.

Would the First want to tell everyone what was happening? Did she trust them to know? To hold firm and not panic? The secrets were already crushing her. How much worse would it become?

Dinner seemed to stretch far too long before the tables were cleared and everyone shuffled away.

“My study,” the First ordered casually as she walked past. Iryana nodded, dread filling her.

Once her plate was dealt with, Iryana wandered through the house, still in a daze. Halfway down the hallway, hands grabbed Iryana, sending her stumbling into a dim room. The door slammed shut behind her.

“What?” Iryana gasped, blinking with her hands raised in defense.

Her sisters stood across from her, arms crossed and faces serious.

“Uh…” She looked around—they were in Hadima’s study. “I was on my way to meet grandmother.”