The message was from Rekja. Our generals had been moving our own army north. And Rekja’s regiment had managed to push Regner’s soldiers out of Gromalia. This war would be fought in Eprotha and not Gromalia. I grinned, raising my gaze to Demos’s. But he wasn’t smiling. Instead, a muscle ticked in his cheek, and his eyes were hard. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said, and his tone made a ball of dread expand throughout my gut. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
