Chapter Forty-Three - SOPHIE

                                    

                                          


                          
Sophie missed Keefe. 
                          
Part of her didn't want to admit that to herself, but there it was, and she'd have to deal with it sooner or later. He always had a way of making responsibility seem less scary—like it didn't matter whether or not one fulfilled it, even though it did. 
                          
After Hylda's words and seeing her statue in Maryntrilla, she needed him more than ever. 
                          
Guilt gnawed at her empty stomach, but she focused on her appetite suppression training to stave off the hunger—and distract herself from the memory of their fight. At least body temperature regulation wasn't necessary; Marella had made a campfire as they waited for the morning, when one of Dimitar's ogres would bring them Markchains so they could enter Ravagog. Technically, they could have stayed the night at Empress Pernille's palace, but Sophie wanted to talk with the ogre king as soon as possible.
                          
At least, that was what she'd told Tam and Marella. The truth was, she didn't quite trust Pernille—not after their previous alliance and now with Marella too. Marella had relayed a lot of her conversation with the trollish leader, and from what Sophie heard, she was worried the empress had taken advantage of Marella's "emotional state" by providing an ultimatum: accept the alliance or receive no help. It was like a threat—and Sophie got that Pernille felt the need to do that, especially after the Trollish Hive Scandal. But something about it made her wary.
                          
"Welp—I've discovered another thing I missed out on the Great Exillium Adventures: how to not die of starvation!" Marella chirped—too happily. Sophie sensed hurt behind the sarcastic facade, but she didn't know how or if she should bring it up.
                          
"I can teach you if you want," offered Tam, but Marella only grew colder.
                          
"Whatever."
                          
Tam's shadows elongated, but he reigned them in before Sophie had to get involved. "I'm going to go collect more firewood," he muttered, traipsing into the black.
                          
Marella laid back, cushioning her head with her arms, and Sophie sighed. "You two should really figure things out, you know. It does no one any good to fight."
                          
"Wow, free Sophie-wisdom. I'll keep that in mind."
                          
"I'm sorry, okay?" Sophie said, a little louder than she meant to. "I shouldn't have forced you and Tam to work together, especially since I knew you guys didn't get along. I thought maybe this trip would change things, but evidently not, and now I've learned my lesson! Is that what you want to hear? That I know I'm wrong? That I know I'm not perfect? And I don't want to be, Marella, not perfect or special or anything."
                          
She stopped, and her laboured breathing accompanied the crackling of the fire until Marella said, softly, "I didn't mean to say those things in Loamnore. And... I'm sorry too."
                          
Sophie was surprised that the simplicity of that statement was enough, and all the tension she hadn't realized she'd been feeling seeped away. 
                          
"You're not a bad leader, Sophie. It was actually really smart to choose Tam and I. The Collective needs to be... well, collective, and we were holding us all back."
                          
"So you've talked things out?" Sophie asked, trying to not feel hopeful.
                          
"Not really? I mean, we sort of had a chat about things in Loamnore, but it ended badly. Which... was actually my fault, so... I should probably be the one to apologize. Again."
                          
	"You're not the only one doing things wrong," Sophie said in an attempt to provide relief, but it ended up coming out the wrong way. "I mean—not that you're doing things wrong—"