41- Rolling In The Deep

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Jak's voice drifted in from the silhouette outlined against her tent in the morning light.

"Princess? Kara?"

The blonde cracked open a eye and groaned, stretching stiffly. She pressed a hand over her forehead and sighed softly, feeling the weariness coursing through her blood.

"Yes?" she responded.

"Your father has returned, your highness."

"Thanks, Jak. Would you mind running for some coffee?"

"Right away, Kara!"

Though she needed the energy, she needed the distraction even more. It had been a full month since her father left to speak to the Alliance monarchs, and their lines had more cracks in them than ever.

There were small victories, here and there. She and James had led a mission to sabotage the trebuchet devices, and they managed to either disable or destroy a third of their large weapons. That slowed their advance considerably. Even more interesting was that after that mission, the Luthorian soldiers no longer seemed interested in reestablishing forward momentum. They simply dug in like ticks and attacked in place, day after day.

It felt almost as if they were all barely holding each other off - and Kara was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Three days ago, hovering over the smoking rubble of a battle in River Hills, Kara and Astra spoke soft words of concern.

"I don't like this, Aunt Astra. What are they doing here?"

"I agree, Princess. Luthoria does not seem to be replenishing their forces at the rate they should for progress, and the Cogorian navy seems content to sit off the shore like a ferry, waiting for them to arrive."

Kara frowned. "We have been holding them here in these hills for weeks. What are they waiting for?"

Astra shook her head quietly, leveling Kara with eyes full of question and anger.

"My spies have gone silent. I pray it is only because they have managed to make a fortuitous escape, but..."

She trailed off, and Kara didn't need her to finish to understand the conclusion she was meant to draw.

The Princess was pinning her hopes on the silver tongue of King Zor-El.

Now three days later, as she tried to blink away the bleary shadows of morning for something a little clearer, she prayed to Rao that he had returned with favorable support.

She dragged herself from her cot and pulled her messy hair up into a bun, hardly taking the time to comb her fingers through it. With soap and a cloth, she attempted to scrub the dirt and soot and from her face and neck, allowing herself a moment to amuse herself with thoughts of the scolding she would be receiving from Lena if she knew the state she was in. A splash of cold water rinsed her face clean, and she tugged on her worn-but-sturdy armor.

She was clipping her cloak into place when Jak's shadow reappeared outside the tent. When she stepped out to join him, he handed her a thick metal mug full of steaming black coffee and slipped a small package wrapped in wax paper into her hand before taking off to finish his morning chores.

Kara watched him affectionately for a moment before the smell of something wonderful reached her. It tickled at a memory in the back of her mind, brushing at the seams of a neatly tied-up velvety package that had taken hold in her heart and sprouted a soaring tree. She set her mug down on one of the posts holding up her tent and carefully pulled back the edge of the wrapped wax paper to reveal half of a loaf of bread, stuffed with meat and potatoes.

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