We found the letter on one of the Kestrel dead, tucked into a boot the way a man hides something he doesn't want to find on his body but can't quite bring himself to leave behind entirely.
Idris brought it to me two days after the battle, while the ridge was still being cleared, while the wounded were still being tended to in the makeshift infirmary that had swallowed most of the great hall.
I was helping carry supplies when she found me, and the look on her face told me before she said a word that whatever she'd found wasn't going to make the last two days feel any less unfinished.
"This warrior was carrying pack colors that didn't match the rest of Kestrel's force," she said, once we'd found a quiet corner away from the wounded. "Look."
The letter wasn't from Marisol. It was address
