The Wardens of Strar by Rachel Grant

Author:Rachel Grant [Grant, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2021-09-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The dining hall was filled with chatter, Wardens of many ranks whispering to one another, while casting furtive glances towards Yasmiel's, Narascha's, and Kaer's table. Yasmiel stabbed her eggs, scowling. Those assholes just kept gossiping and they were getting on her last nerve. It didn't help that Narascha and Kaer looked so at ease, Narascha sipping her tea while Kaer enjoyed his own breakfast.

She didn't understand how the pair were so relaxed. In Yasmiel's opinion; if everyone wanted to talk about them, then the Wardens should do so to their faces. Not behind their backs. Less disrespectful that way. Malroy never did that to her. If either of them had a problem, they would talk about it. Or well, yell at each other. The thought made her deflate.

She wished Malroy was here. He was her first friend, her oldest companion outside of her home. If they hadn't spent their last moments together arguing then maybe they would have been together when everything went to hell. When Zerx ruined her life by attacking Horntale.

“I'm sure whatever that egg did to you, it deserved all it got,” Kaer joked, startling her.

It brought her right back to her current problem. Something she was very thankful for. She could feel peoples' eyes on her.

“It's not funny,” Yasmiel hissed. “They keep staring!”

“I'm sure they are just admiring our good looks.” Kaer shrugged half-heartedly.

She winced at that, her anger taking a back seat for a moment, replaced by shame. Yasmiel hated those three horrible scars cutting across her face, the three silver lines. They felt rough and uneven whenever she trailed a finger across them. Kaer noticed the brief flinch and leaned forward with a heavy frown.

“Whatever you're thinking—"

“I don't want to talk about it,” Yasmiel cut him off sharply, a bite in her tone.

She shook her head and grimaced; she hadn't meant to sound so nasty. Kaer looked worried and now Narascha was eyeing her, which only increased her frustration and made her want to hit something.

Yasmiel glanced back down at her breakfast and winced at the mutilated egg. To salvage what was left, she dipped some bread into the yolk, rushing through the last of her breakfast. Narascha and Kaer shared a hesitant look before meeting Yasmiel's eyes.

“Are you sure?” Narascha asked softly.

“Yes.”

Narascha carried on anyway. “We all look different, Yasmiel... I have purple hair—"

“Which I have to admit to being very curious about,” Kaer chirped up.

“I dye it.”

Yasmiel got up from the table, earning alarmed looks from her friends, as she lifted her plate. They weren't finished yet, so she could use that as a distraction and get away from the conversation.

“I'm fine, alright? I'm going to go train for a bit,” Yasmiel reassured them or attempted to; neither seemed content, though.

“I'll come with—" Kaer began.

“You should finish your breakfast,” Yasmiel said, hurrying over to the counter where all the dishes sat, dumping her cup and plate down.

Heading quickly towards the door, she slipped out of the main hall, sighing in relief when she finally felt all the stares disappear behind her.

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