Sylvia Fenris’ POV
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“You lie.” “You lie.” The words came out shaky, my whole body suddenly cold despite the warmth of the morning sun climbing over the fence posts.
“You couldn't have done it. Everybody knows you weren't born when the banishment happened,” I said.
“You said so yourself," he said with an apologetic voice.
I said each word louder, panic and denial blending until they were indistinguishable.
"No, the banishment,” I continued.
His eyes locked with mine. He wouldn't let me look away from what he was about to say.
“But your mother didn’t die when they banished her, Sylvia. She died six years back. In a skirmish on the border. I was fifteen years old. Old enough to fight in a war I didn’t
