For a moment, Evangeline wondered if there was something wrong with Morningstar. Not physically at least but mentally. He looked smart and crafty, the sort of man who could weave plans in the middle of a battlefield and come out victorious no matter how impossible the situation was. Yet perhaps that intelligence only existed whenever blood was being spilled or swords were crossing. Outside of war, was he truly this hopeless?
Because if he had spent even a little time searching for the murderer of his own sister from the very beginning, would any of this have happened at all? That alone could have spared everyone from this endless chain of misunderstandings. There would have been no kidnapping, no unnecessary fights, no pointless interrogations, and certainly no mountain of stress that she had somehow been dragged into despite having nothing to do with any of it.
The more she thought about it, the more absurd it became.
