Twenty-One
Solma joins hands with Olive and Maxen to hold back the restless crowd. The delegation of Stewards stalks down the path, their bodyguards prowling behind them. The crowd bellows and Solma’s cries of “Stay back, please! Stay back!” have become mechanical.
She stands, churning the helplessness in her core into anger in the hope it might make her feel more powerful. It doesn’t. The muscles in her neck strain as she yells. Tears prick at her eyes, too, which doesn’t help. She feels like a naughty child. Stuck her hand in a fire and then cried when she got burned. This is all her fault. What does she do now?
The visiting delegates refused to go home, despite Blaiz’s best efforts. They are setting up various camps around the village, staking out their own territories, posting guard
