The battle that raged so short a distance from Lillian only served to stoke the flames of her anger higher and hotter. So many had already died today, so many more would die before it ended. Men she knew and had served beside. Lillian had thought about asking what had become of General Serenus, but she kept her lips firmly sealed, refusing to ask. She knew the answer, of course, he was dead. Blaith would have never made it up the tower so long as the general had lived. His death rang hollowly inside her. He was a well-known, well-respect general, or had been, but she had not known him well. Soldiers died in droves.
By the time the Turgall flag was raised above the fort, the young noblewoman was stoically fighting her exhaustion and cold, which had been steadily creeping back into her limbs. She was a Coleridge, however, and her pride had her sitting stiff-backed on her stool, silent and nursing her fury.
Blaith returned to camp eventually, and as he drew close enough for her to see, jade eyes flared. For the first time since the tower she spoke to Blaith. Words cold and angry, lashing out at him in his obvious disappointment. "A hollow victory, your grace? You look so very unhappy for a man that just slaughtered thousands needlessly looking for a woman who is not here. If only someone had mentioned that to you earlier..."
