It was the morning of the march, and troops were getting ready to go into battle, without Zofia.
She felt utterly useless. All she could do was wonder why Lord Kharlan had ordered her to stay. She wanted to trust his judgement, but something her her gut told her he was planning something he shouldn't.
Not only that, occasionally, when Zofia 'borrowed' food from the kitchens at midnight, she would find Kharlan walking the corridors. He had a faint scent of magic around him, a magic scent that was not familiar to Zofia. Lately, that scent had become stronger and stronger, and it smelt evil, whatever evil smelt like.
She wanted to ignore it so badly, but her suspicions kept her awake, and it wouldn't let her go.
Not knowing what to do with those suspicions, she went to the person who could do something about it, but right now he was making her feel stupid.
"Kharlan? Are you sure?" Daryun asked. "He's a Marzban, a loyal servant of Pars. He chases after magic folk day after day, capturing one prisoner after another."
"Gee, thanks." Zofia rolled her eyes. "All I'm asking is that you keep an eye on Kharlan."
"It's Lord Kharlan, to you. And there is no need. Kharlan is our friend, and your mentor!"
"But how do you explain that unrecognizable but constant magic scent?"
"There are numerous people in Ectbatana. We can't tell who has magic just by a glance. Perhaps Lord Kharlan was tracking someone down for his Majesty, the King."
"I hope so."
"Is there any other explanation?"
Zofia thought about it. Realistically, yes, there was. But she was close to Kharlan, he'd taken her under his wing. It seemed absurd that there would be another explanation.
"I guess not. Thanks for listening away, Daryun."
"It was no trouble."
"Oh, and Daryun?"
"Yes?"
"Keep Arslan safe, please. I want both of you back in one piece, if that's possible."
"It's Prince Arslan, but I will keep his highness away from harm at all costs."
Zofia left Daryun's chambers, flinching from the pain of her wrist and she twisted the doorknob. She felt better that Daryun, Lord Eran Vahriz and the King would be there to protect Arslan, but the feeling of worry stayed put in the pit of her stomach. What was wrong?
As she was walking down the halls in the palace, a male voice called out to her. "Zofia!"
Zofia turned around and saw the prince, accompanied by Lord Eran Vahriz and Lord Kharlan. "Arslan! What are you doing here? I thought you were preparing for battle?"
"Zofia, remember your place. It is your highness." Kharlan ordered.
"Yes sir..." She mumbled. Arslan chuckled. "It's alright, I don't mind it. As for the battle, I shall be leaving now."
There is was again. That feeling of worry.
"So are you saying goodbye?"
"Yes. I shall return here when the battle is over. I hope you won't get yourself into trouble."
"I'd say the same about you." Zofia put a hand on Prince Arslan's shoulder. "Not a scratch, remember?"
"I remember. Don't worry. I will be fine."
They smiled sweetly at each other. Lord Kharlan cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.
"If his highness doesn't mind, I would like to have a word with Zofia. Alone."
———
Kharlan brought her to the wall she'd jumped off three years ago. It seemed like another lifetime.
"So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" She asked, getting straight to the point. Kharlan sighed heavily.
"As you know, we are going off into battle in just a few minutes. When I return, there is something we must talk about."
"Can you not talk to me about it now?"
"I'm afraid I can't. But we will discuss it after the battle. It is very important that we do."
She watched as Kharlan turned on his heel and made his way to the front of the army, where he commanded at least 10,000 men. Was that all?, Zofia wondered. He had brought her up here alone just to say that?
Zofia waved them goodbye from the wall as their huge army started the march to Atropatene. It was crazy to think that once upon a time, she and Etoile had taken Arslan hostage here, and now she was waving that same once-enemy goodbye?
Things change. Everything changes. The only difference between the changes is how quickly they shift, and in battle, shifting fortunes is all they do.