She felt a twinge in her chest. Yes, she understood the feeling all too well. She was far, far from anything she had ever known. She pictured her brother tending his herb garden, leaning heavily on the cane her uncle had made for him. Did he wonder where his older sister had gone? And her younger sister, too—would she pick up the sabre she had dropped?

Did either of them still live? Of course, she told herself firmly. She could not consider a reality where they did not. She sat down, letting the fire warm her back.

It is the language of the Rus', Corvi explained. Spoken throughout the land, though I have heard the kings speak another.

Neither of us are meant to be here. Yet, here we are. She blew a low, tired sigh through her teeth. My name is Corvi. Of Somovo, she meant to add, but the words did not come. Somehow, it was too painful to speak.