The humans on the front would be Eprotha’s poorest. These were the villagers I’d grown up among. The people who’d lived without their own power for most of their lives. The fathers and sons who’d been conscripted and who’d had no choice but to fight for their king. Some of them wouldn’t even have been able to read the conscription notice they’d been handed. I choked out a sob, and my hand shook violently as I reached for my next arrow.
I really appreciate how these books handle the reality of war; that not every person is a blind follower, but had no choice and probably also have families
