Veridia

Chapter 17

Terramore, present

Geneva knew she would be out of shape, but not this bad.

Target practice left her winded, sore, and sweaty.

But it was pleasing to see that she hadn't lost her touch, not yet at least. The look on Sergei's face when she hit a perfect volley of bullseyes with a borrowed set of throwing knives was worth paying money for.

That didn't mean she wasn't wheezing by the end of it.

Moving targets were now the bane of her existence. Her shoulders screamed in pain every time she moved her arms.

She spent the lunch break observing the students. As an expert eavesdropper, Geneva snooped around the mess hall, listening in on conversations.

Most of them were boring, about who moved up in rank, who did this or that. She also listened to a very uncomfortable conversation from a group of girls talking about which boys were the best looking.

Needless to say, Geneva got out of their vicinity pretty quick.

But there was useful information to be gleaned. There was a good amount of people talking about the upcoming war, and the overall opinion was that Terramore would win without any effort.

No one voiced qualms about the bloodbath ahead, no one spoke against the king.

Was it fear that sealed their mouths shut? Was it ignorance?

And then there were talks of the riots. King Nikolai was increasing taxes, and citizens grew restless. That could work in her favor. If Valorborne could not be swayed, Geneva could set her sights among the masses.

Then again, an impending deadline to accomplish her mission made her hard-pressed for time.

Now, sitting by herself in a secluded corner of the mess hall, Geneva let herself mull the new information over.

Geneva snapped out of her stupor when somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She glared up at the newcomer, only to falter once she saw his face.

It was a stranger, a boy of about fourteen. Brown hair, soft brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles dotted around his nose. He had the wide innocence of a child who hadn't yet seen the dark face of life, and Geneva instantly softened.

"I, um. I was wondering..." His voice trailed off, and he flushed from embarrassment.

"Wondering what?" She prompted.

"Um." The boy fiddled with his fingers, gaze dropping to the floor.

"Are- are you really Geneva Kiselev? The Geneva Kiselev?"

Geneva bit back a laugh, a smile splitting her face.

"Yes."

"Oh." The boy thought for a moment. "You're not as scary as people say you are."

Geneva did laugh at that, and the boy looked startled.

"There's always more to a person than what's on the surface."

The boy nodded, chewing his bottom lip.

"Okay. I'm Igor."

"Nice to meet you, Igor."

He nodded again, and with that, he scampered back towards his table of friends. They gave him a cheer, clapping him on the back.

Geneva smiled to herself. Igor was a child, unbeaten and untainted by the world's horrors.

That's going to change real quick when he's on a battlefield is soaked in blood.

Geneva's smile faded.