Except for the soldiers Daric had assigned to patrol the streets, the city was empty. Eerie. What only a week ago were bustling streets full of people were now still, replaced by fear. It was in the air, in the water, in the vacant eyes that peered through half open windows.
Maren made her way to the market square where they’d set up a medical area in an old store. It was drafty, smelled of mildew, and the roof leaked, but it was something.
Adare stood directing the few volunteers she’d been able to gather, mostly those too young or old to have families to care for.
“How is everything?” Maren asked.
“Good.” Adare met her eyes. “For now. Eventually, we aren’t going to have enough space. Or supplies. Or help.”
Because Kern wasn’t going away.
And winter was only a few months off.
Adare sank onto a nearby stool. “How can we possibly survive this?”
Maren dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe if Daric and I surrend—”
“No.” Maren grabbed both of Adare’s hands as if they were only thing keeping her alive. “No.”
Adare’s expression softened. “But it would end this. And what are two lives in exchange for thousands? Especially when part of my heart is already gone?”
The sorrow in her friend’s eyes was almost physical, but she pushed it away. “Your surrender wouldn’t end anything,” she insisted. “Kern wants Daric to suffer, for his kingdom to suffer. What better way than to kill his wife in front of him and then make him watch the destruction of his country?”
A cannonball hit on the other side of the city and the ground shook beneath them.
“I’ve already lost Philip,” Maren continued. “And my father. And Justin. I can’t lose you and Daric too.”