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“Misha!” Hadima gasped. “That’s your question?”

“I’m not talking about my sex life with my fourteen-year-old sister. But… we definitely got ahead of ourselves,” Iryana admitted. “Thinking that there would be some future, perhaps. Eventually. But with everything now… I think that’s gone. He’s going to see his soldiers through this war, however long it lasts.”

“It’s admirable,” Hadima said reluctantly. “But you’re right, most of the clan wouldn’t approve.”

“That’s why the rest of the clan can’t know,” Iryana reminded them.

Hadima nodded slowly. “But you’re allowed to do things the family doesn’t like, you know.”

“You don’t.” The corner of Iryana’s mouth tipped up. “Aside from your wild night with Sorahn.”

“Ah, well. I’m working on that.” Hadima smiled.

“Pyetar and I know that whatever is between us is limited now.”

“Take what you can. With the world we live in… you should take advantage of any chance at happiness.”

Iryana nodded, but it didn’t seem that simple to her. Duty had to come first.

Duty always came first.

Iryana picked the headdress back up, returning her focus to her sewing project as she tried not to think of the cost of all that duty.

A sudden wobble of her chair had Iryana looking up.

She glanced at Hadima to see if she’d knocked into the table or something, but Hadima was looking at her, just as confused.

“Did someone drop something downstairs?” Misha asked.

Before she could open her mouth, the room shook so strongly that Iryana was thrown off her chair. She hit the floor hard as the house creaked around them. The house was shaking, the supplies bouncing around the table, and she could hear things shattering in other parts of the house. People were shouting.

Iryana turned to her sisters—they were okay. Misha was clutching the headboard, wide-eyed. Hadima was bracing herself against the wall.

“Get under the table,” Iryana urged her sisters. If the roof came down, it would hopefully protect them.

Hadima reached for Misha as she stumbled off the bed, pulling her toward the ground.

A child’s wail echoed through the house.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Use your shield, Misha!” Iryana gasped and scrambled to her feet. She threw open the door and raced down the hallway as she teetered back and forth, trying to keep her feet under her.

Teshya and Tonhald would have put their daughter to bed, letting her sleep for a few hours before they came up to bed themselves. The other children were old enough to know to use their shields if they got scared, but Anara was too young.

Iryana threw open her cousin’s door, finding a red-faced Anara screaming and thrashing in the pile of furs on her small bed on the floor.

Relief flooded her.

She scooped up the toddler and held her tightly, trying to rock her as the house continued to shake.

Iryana yanked open the door of her cousin’s wardrobe; it was the sturdiest piece of furniture in the room. She tossed enough clothes out to make room and climbed inside with Anara. She had too little shield magic now to protect them if the ceiling collapsed.

“Mama!” Anara shook in Iryana’s arms.

“I’ve got you,” Iryana soothed her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Anara!” a panicked Tonhald cried as he skidded into the room, stumbling as his eyes landed on the empty bed