Year 850: Three days after the attack on the 57th Expedition

Winter suited Katrine, which was why she was loathe to leave Utopia behind.

The letter bidding her return, written and signed by Commander Erwin himself, was brief. There was nothing in it of note, simply one sentence demanding that Captain Katrine Casimir report immediately to Stohess District along with all accompanying Cartography Unit soldiers. Dry and brusque, as usual. She rolled her eyes after reading it and tossed it on the table where her three subordinates panted for the news. They rushed to grab it, squabbling over who could read it first.

The accompanying tea-stained and smudged missive in sloppy handwriting was no more enlightening.

K,

You would not believe what we've found out about Titans!

-H

The underline tore through the page. She refused to let it pique her interest.

"Katrine, we're finally going back to the Scouts! I'm so excited, I've been dying to see everyone!" Mila, her youngest squad member, sprang from her chair and grinned at her. "We'll finally get to see that boy who can turn into a Titan!" Her earnest expression did little to lighten Katrine's sour mood.

She tapped her nails on the table. "That we will."

"Aren't you excited?" The happy look turned quizzical.

"Not the word I'd use."

Mila turned to the tall blonde woman sitting beside her. "Elisabeth, aren't you looking forward to seeing your brother again?"

Elisabeth raised her substantial eyebrows. "I don't think he'll have time for me."

"Sheesh! You people are miserable." Mila wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Am I the only one excited to return to humanity again? I'm so sick of this goddamn snow!"

"I am, Mila." Sara rose and put her arm around Mila, who pouted. "Ladies, let's go pack. You know Katrine likes to wallow alone." She threw Katrine a serene smile.

"Watch out, I'll smack you for that," Katrine said, but didn't make eye contact with Sara. She considered the two letters before her, hand obscuring her mouth.

"Be careful with that pondering, you'll ruin your face. I assume we're leaving soon?"

Katrine drew her hand away and inspected it for red smudges. "Glad you're still looking out for me. In two days' time. Just to warn you, the mayor of Utopia will want to send us off."

Mila gagged. "That man is such a pig! Haven't you seen the way he looks at us?"

"Nobody died from a lecherous stare, Mila. You can learn to use that to your advantage. Where do you think all our nice tea and wool came from?"

Mila folded her arms and huffed. "I know, but I don't like it."

The women left the room, and once she couldn't hear their footsteps Katrine sighed and leaned back in her chair, covering her eyes with her hands. She knew this would happen eventually, and had thought about it extensively in an attempt to prepare herself, but it all felt useless now. She didn't want to go back to the pageantry of the command hierarchy, the uniforms and bright-eyed recruits and we're going to kill all the Titans! Most of all, and she'd spent so long trying to bury it in the recesses of her mind, she did not want to look at, or speak to, or even be in the same room as him. God, she'd put so much distance between them, and for what? Only to be back in that same painful and humiliating situation again?

Drained, Katrine stood and shoved her chair back with an angry squeal. She walked to the large window and took in the view of Utopia. A new layer of snow blanketed the city, and in the dark it appeared fresh and clean. She would miss that about this place: the fact that every few days, a snowstorm would come and hide everything broken and dirty with a thick white layer.

She opened the door to the balcony and took a deep breath. The frigid air refreshed her lungs and the bone-chilling temperature caused her muscles to contract and twinge. She slapped her thighs and brought her right leg up to the ledge of the balcony, straightening her knee and pointing her toes. One downside to Utopia was that the cold weather was terrible for keeping her muscles loose and limber, but there were plenty of fireplaces to fix that up.

Bowing her chest towards her lifted leg, Katrine felt the familiar tug in the back of her thigh. Ever since coming to Utopia she found herself remembering Mr. Kaiser and Act IV of the ballet Menagerie of the Seasons, in which one dancer performed "The Winter Storm." "Be the storm! You are a force, a gale of wind, you freeze men to death! No, no, the winter storm does not allow her knee to bend in her arabesque!" She always laughed when she thought of him crowing at the other girls about hailstorms when she was certain that neither Mr. Kaiser nor any of the girls had ever seen a real snowstorm, like what happened in Utopia. Mr. Kaiser would hate it here; he'd cringe at the perpetually muddy streets and unwashed, rustic civilians.

"Katrine, why don't you want to go back?"

Broken from her memories, Katrine turned to face Mila. She had that infuriatingly concerned look on her face where she furrowed her brow and bit her lip. Katrine always wanted to slap her when she gave her that look. Girls her age should be self-absorbed and not concentrating on problems that were not their own.

Katrine stared at Mila, unblinking, and shrugged. She didn't feel like explaining herself.

"You know, you're going to catch a cold standing out here without a coat," Mila said.

"It was too hot inside."

Mila joined Katrine at the balcony and gazed at the city. Katrine dropped her right leg, shifting herself away from Mila, and repeated the exercise with her left. The two were quiet, but Katrine could feel Mila's concerned eyes probing her face.

"It's because of Captain Levi, isn't it?" Mila asked.

Heat flaring in her chest, Katrine swung her leg off the balcony and whirled to face Mila.

"Who told you?" She immediately regretted revealing herself.

"Ah, um, Sara did, I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

"I swear on everything that is good and holy within these walls I will kick her in the teeth, and all of you will watch me do it."

"I mean, she didn't say what happened, um, we don't know what happened, uh, I'm really sorry, please don't be angry at us, Katrine, we're just worried…" Mila trailed off, face red.

Katrine felt both embarrassed and relieved. "Nothing happened. There's nothing to worry about."

"But, are you sure?"

"Mila, do you want to run laps in the snow, right now?"

Mila refused, louder than necessary, despite knowing that her threats were empty ones. They always were, but Katrine was still her leader. Mila pursed her lips and turned to look back at the city, avoiding her glare.

"Um, if you need someone to talk to…" she said, still facing away.

"Nothing to talk about. Hey, let's go for a walk. I doubt we'll see this place for a long time, so better give it a proper goodbye, right?"

The two walked down the empty streets, the first footprints in the new snow. Utopia was desolate after nightfall, especially after such a violent storm. People tended to find places to burrow.

The light of the streetlamps fell on Katrine, turning the ash-blonde braid slung across her shoulder the shade of copper. She stopped and threw her head back into the light, squinting. Lolling her head, face appearing gaunt and jaundiced, she peered at Mila.

"I'm going to bury myself in this snowbank and then no one will find me. I'll never have to leave."

"That's a weird thing to say," Mila said, concerned.

"I guess you're right."

They passed the administrative building, a small wooden cabin one story tall. It was a far cry from the grand and structurally sound buildings that stood in the more populous southern districts. Sure, Utopia was lacking in elegance and the only positive thing Katrine could say about their clothes was that they were warm, but the people here were kind and always wanted to listen to stories about the Scouts' expeditions, despite her tendency to embellish with unnecessary tangents and dialogue no one actually said.

Katrine and Mila turned a corner and found Sara's favorite bar nestled in deep snowbanks. A group of Garrison soldiers stood on the porch shivering in thin coats, smoke wafting around them. They were silent besides the occasional cough. Their brows were heavy and their eyes shadowed; from Katrine's vantage, they looked like breathing corpses.

Hearing their footsteps, the group turned. One scowled and threw his cigarette to the ground, squashing it with his boot.

"Hey, I know this bitch. I was telling you about her earlier," he said.

"The one who stole your wallet?"

"Yeah. Right after payday too." The man began to lumber toward her.

Ugh. I swore he was too drunk to notice. What was his name? Dirk? Derrick? She grit her teeth, wracking her brain for the name.

"Again?" Mila whined.

"Darren, man, calm down. The captain'll kill us for this."

She seized it and her mouth opened before the thoughts even began to form. "I'm so sorry, Darren, I'm sure this is a huge misunderstanding. I remember you, from Thursday, right? You told me about how you were stuck working on the tunnel to the iceburst mine? And you just about wanted to die?" She laughed. "You were so funny. I would have loved to see you again, you know, but I won't get that pleasure." She smiled and fluttered her lashes for good measure.

In reality, Darren had knocked down two glasses of whiskey in quick succession, assaulted her with his hot breath, and kept touching her thigh with his massive and sweaty palm. The two small bills she'd found in his wallet were not worth the effort.

Darren halted, disarmed.

"Your mother kept writing to you asking when the damn Scouts were gonna finish killing the Titans up here and let you finish the work! I will take that account into consideration, I promise." She widened her blue eyes and brought a light hand to her heart.

"Yeah," Darren said, confused, and his expression turned addled. He seemed to be considering whether someone who was kind enough to remember all that could possibly be a cruel thief.

He took another step forward, more wobbly this time. "Why'd you say you won't see me again?"

"Oh, the Scouts called us back. Typical bureaucracy, you know?" She shrugged.

The dim look on his face hinted that he didn't understand the word, but his lips curled into a smile. Now that he was close enough to see, Katrine noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Come hang out with us now, then. Bring your pretty friend, too." The yellow light ginted off his teeth and her shoulders tensed. She could almost feel the shudders bouncing off of Mila cowering behind her.

"We actually need to prepare for leaving, you wouldn't believe the mountain of paperwork I have to do," Katrine said.

Darren ambled closer. "Ladies, ladies," he said, a cloud of foul breath vaporizing at her face. "It's so cold out, I know just the thing that'll warm you up." He clamped a heavy hand on her shoulder. The force of it caused her to slide back a bit in the snow.

Tolerance broken, the knife was out of Katrine's waistband and at the soft meat of Darren's elbow before he could blink. "Get your hand off me or I will cut your dick off and choke you with it."

"W-what?"

"Hey, hey," Darren's companion said. "Calm down."

Mila whimpered behind her.

Motionless, Katrine eyed the bottle in Darren's hand, measuring the amount of liquid available and the strength of his grip on the neck. It looked loose enough to try.

Lunging forward, she scraped the knife against Darren's skin while snatching the bottle with her free hand. As she spun towards him, she aimed the neck of the bottle at his face and splashed whiskey on him. Alcohol burning his eyes, Darren yelped and clawed at them.

Snapping to attention, Mila grabbed Katrine's arm. "Come on!"

The two sprinted away, puffs of hot breath trailing them, as the other men surrounded Darren and brought clumps of cold snow to his eyes. Once sufficiently far but within earshot, Katrine skid to a stop and turned to face them, hand cupped to her mouth.

"Hey, Derrick!" She pulled a coin out of her pocket. "Next round's on me!" She threw it in their direction, cackling at her own joke.

"Stop, Katrine!" Mila tugged her around the corner of the next building and forced her into a jog.

"Mila!" Katrine whined. "I wanted to see what they were going to say!"

"I'm not letting you get kicked again!"

They ran back towards the barracks, lungs burning from exertion and the cold air. The houses they passed were dark, but Katrine felt heat emanating from them. She knew the inhabitants of Utopia were buried under their blankets, asleep, unconcerned with anything beyond the walled enclosures they called home. It was the same everywhere she went, and because she had different priorities, Katrine never felt like she quite belonged.

When they reached the barracks, Mila sank into a squat, wheezing. She threw her head back to look at the sky, a deep navy spotted with glowing pinpricks. Sweat beaded at her forehead, soaking into the dark flyaways sprouting from her braid. Mila styled her hair the same way Katrine did, which was a never-ending source of pride for her since mimicry really was the sincerest form of flattery. Katrine stared down at the girl and felt a twinge of guilt for involving her in a problem of her own making. But, the girl was a strong runner and a quick thinker, so it wasn't a detriment to have her available. No, not a girl. Mila had seen her share of Titans and was still alive. Katrine gave her a smile and reached down to help her up.

Inside, they stripped off their winter layers and sat to warm their stiff hands at the fireplace. Katrine watched the flames, unblinking, and pressed her thin lips into a thinner line, making them nearly invisible. She'd already forgotten about the Garrison soldiers.

"I can't believe I have to be the one scolding you, again, but you really need to stop stealing people's money," Mila said. "And you pulled a knife on that man! What if he was a Garrison commander?"

Katrine waved her hand dismissively. "I don't steal from people, I steal from men. And he had a foot and sixty pounds on me, I couldn't do that much damage. That knife's just for show."

"Yeah, but that money buys bread."

"It'll also buy me a new dress, which I think is a much better use."

Mila sighed. "I'm sure he didn't deserve it. I can't really blame him for being angry."

"Consider it teaching him a lesson on underestimating women. Or the Scouts, for that matter, if it makes you feel better."

"It doesn't."

Katrine flopped onto her back, throwing her hands into the air with a flourish. "Oh, my darling Mila, I am so terribly remorseful for my actions this evening, and I am a horrible captain for allowing my exceedingly beautiful and most talented subordinate face danger." She sniveled and swiped at her eyes. "I am aware that my actions are unforgivable, and I will live with that shame for the rest of my life, but I pray you, tell me whatever I can do to redeem myself and earn back your favor." She trilled the words of her monologue and brought her hand to her forehead, writhing in imaginary pain.

"Stop, stop!" Mila fell to her back too, snickering. Suddenly she gasped, grinned, and turned to Katrine.

"I know what you can do to make it up. You can tell me what you did that makes you so scared of going back."

Katrine wrinkled her nose. "I'm not scared. And sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good."

"I promise, Katrine, it'll feel so good to let it out."

"I really don't think it will."

Mila frowned. "Why?"

"Because it's embarrassing, and you're going to give me that terrible pitying look, and I hate when people pity me."

Mila said nothing in return and watched her sit up and curl her knees towards her chest. Katrine avoided her pointed look by staring into the fire. The heat tickled her eyes, threatening tears. She closed them to halt the onslaught.

"Did you know I turn thirty tomorrow?" It was a bad diversion, but Katrine hoped it might work.

"You do? I thought you were older." Mila sounded surprised.

Katrine scoffed. "Hell's that supposed to mean? You saying I'm an old maid?"

"No! You just act like you know so much. You could've said you were turning fifty and I'd believe it." Mila shook her head, embarrassed. "What are you gonna do for your birthday?"

"I'll be generous and not hold that comment against you. I'm going to explore the caves at the Rhein River. The maps here are terrible, so I should probably help them out and update them. I'll show them to you, the drawings on them are ridiculous-"

"Hey, you're changing the subject."

Katrine gave a dramatic moan. She didn't want Mila to think less of her. It had been so long since someone else looked at her with admiring eyes, modeled herself after her, and thought she was brave and smart and worthwhile. At first she was afraid to let it happen again, but now that it had, she was going to let herself enjoy it for as long as she could. And besides, maybe it would feel good to let it out. If anything, she could warn Mila not to repeat her own mistakes.

She laid back down and brought the crooks of her elbows over her face to conceal her eyes. Then she began the story.

Katrine shielded her eyes from the sun's glare reflecting off the icy sheet of snow. The vista before her was filled with varying shades of white and the solid expanse of blue sky. She took an energizing breath of the frigid air, allowing it to bite at her lungs, and held it for a moment, giving herself one moment of stillness before setting out.

I'm going to miss this, she thought, heart sinking. In Utopia, no one questioned her when she went off alone into the wilderness in the early morning, beyond the wall, and didn't return until sundown. Granted, the Titans in the north were few and far between, and generally more sluggish than their southern counterparts. The swift, freezing rivers also provided a natural protection against them since the subzero temperatures sapped the Titan's energy. Though she hadn't observed too many Titans and their reactions to falling in the water, she thought that Titans exhibited the same symptoms of hypothermia as humans did, including shuddering, disorientation, and immobility. Of the few things to look forward to in returning, she was excited to tell Hange about the discovery.

However, studying Titans was not the reason for her excursion, and rarely the reason for any of them. Titans were a hazard, but not enough to keep her cooped inside the walls forever. There were things out there, things no one knew about and not hidden away in any book. Some Scouts dreamed of the sea or mountains that spit fire, and she wanted to see them too, but what she really needed to find were people. Specifically, in cities beyond the walls where their lives didn't revolve around fear. They would have art, and beautiful stories, and abundances of everything they could ever want. There would be things in those cities that she could never dream of, and she was going to find them. Never mind the fact that she had never found any promising leads in any of her solo expeditions, she would keep trying.

Those excursions would be curtailed when she returned to the main corps. Too much paperwork to read, administration to please, and duties to attend. Besides, she'd had enough unauthorized outings beyond the walls that Erwin, that pretentious tyrant, kept too close of an eye on her. It was suffocating.

Katrine exhaled forcefully. Her horse flicked its head back towards her, concerned.

"Ah, sorry. Time to go, I know." She nudged the brown flank with her heel.

Her horse obeyed, hooves crushing the icy layer of snow. Urging it into a gallop, she aimed northwest, towards the deepest and swiftest river within a forty kilometer radius outside Utopia, the farthest she could reach on her own and still make it home before nightfall. The tattered map she'd consulted promised multiple caves alongside the river, though the old woman in the tiny library warned her against exploring them.

"Not good. Ghosts there." The wizened, diminutive woman had squinted at Katrine and wrinkled her nose. "Very stupid girl."

Katrine snorted. "I don't believe in ghosts. Do you have any more detailed maps?"

"No, no one go there!"

"Okay then, I'm gonna take this one. You don't mind, right? The Scouts thank you for your generosity." Not wanting to waste time with more useless warnings, she turned to leave.

"Wait!" The crone shuffled to a desk littered with trinkets and musty books. She bent down and yanked at a drawer that groaned in protest; clearly it had not been opened in years. She pulled out what looked like a doll. It was an ugly thing, with straw poking out of its limbs and a threadbare brown dress covering its torso. Its ratty pale hair looked suspiciously like it came from a horse.

"You take. Protects. Looks like you, too!"

Katrine frowned, inspecting the object. The doll had the same color hair as her, but that was about it, unless she'd been vastly overestimating her appearance.

"What is this?"

"Someone left, many years ago. When I was this high!" She bent over to hold her palm at knee height and grinned a gummy smile.

"Thank you." Not wanting to engage in the niceties of refusing over and over and eventually accepting in resignation, as was the custom not just in Utopia but everywhere, Katrine had pocketed the doll and left.

By the time the sun was high above her, Katrine reached the river. It was a behemoth compared to the others, and so rapid that the Utopians never went to fish there, preferring the slower and shallower ones. However, today the river was frozen over, a vast floor of glass before her. It seldom froze, but this specific time of year and the subzero temperatures the night before had given her a rare window to access the caves it guarded. She'd been waiting months to reach them and finally, she had her moment. Maybe luck was on her side after all.

She dug into her waistband and fingered the doll. She didn't know why she decided to take it with her, as she'd never been a big believer in lucky charms. Possibly it was because the old woman had seemed so excited that she could finally give it to someone, after it had been forgotten in a drawer for ages. She still refused to believe it looked anything like her.

After consulting her map, Katrine led her horse to the rocky shore of the river where the slick sheet of ice began. She tied the horse to a spindly tree that glittered with drops of melting ice and fastened the ODM grapples to the stronger tree a few feet away. She'd have to be quick about this, since she had no idea how long the ice would last and if it was thick enough to support her weight. Taking a hesitant step to test the strength of the ice, she determined that it was not going to break and took another. She kept both arms extended at her sides. Shitty second position, sorry, Mr. Kaiser.

Katrine shuffled across the ice, cables extending behind her, until she estimated that she was close enough to the cave that she could grapple onto the rock with her ODM gear. The river was so wide that she was nearly halfway across before she could even think about attempting it. She sank into a crouch to keep herself steady, hands spreading on the ice. It was beginning to weep and her hands slid. No time to waste.

There would be only seconds to perform this action. The ODM gear was practical in so many ways, but being slow and delicate was not a feature. There was only one trigger to release the grapples, and the gear would immediately suck the cord and hooks back into their canisters. She was anxious that the unruly mechanics would cause a problem and leave her stranded, separated from violent, black waters by a few inches of ice.

No use waiting around. She pressed the trigger to release the grapples; the hooks dropped from the tree onto the shore and flew towards her. Since she was in a squat, the hooks couldn't keep themselves aloft and they scraped across the ice, bouncing but otherwise leaving the ice intact. Her lungs burned and she forced herself to breathe evenly.

Suddenly one grapple hit an uneven patch and ricocheted a few feet upwards. It crashed back into the ice, shattering it, and the hook disappeared into the dark water. The gear continued to pull the wire back into the canister, and it began to cut a thin line through the ice. Cracks splintered outwards as the unrelenting grapple barreled towards her.

Keeping one hand planted on the ice, Katrine grabbed the hilt of her sword with the other and severed the cable. The remnant of the wire whipped back toward the grapple, and with nowhere to go, the hook slowed to a stop and sank, dragging the cable with it.

The remaining grapple snapped into place at Katrine's back, but without the force of the other to counter it, it sent her reeling forward. Her feet skidded to the left and the hand holding her balanced slipped on the melting ice. Unthinking, she brought her sword hand down hard to steady herself and punched through the ice; it severed the thin cable connecting the sword hilt to her gear.

Katrine yelped, shocked. The cold was extreme; she had never felt such an abrupt and intense pain. Her fingers spasmed at the searing agony and flexed, releasing the sword. It too sank to a watery grave. She ripped her hand out of the water, but instead of bringing it behind her to steady herself, she extended both arms to her sides, parallel to the ice, and lifted her heels to balance on her toes. She would not risk smashing through the ice again and tearing a bigger hole. Fingers taut, she held the position until she was sure she could rise to her feet without breaking the ice. Or, as sure as she could be, with a sizeable hole beside her threatening to grow.

Ignoring her wet, throbbing hand, Katrine assessed the situation. One grapple, one sword. Why'd I choose today to take only one set of cables? Mila told me to "let it out" and that must have clouded my judgment. She huffed. Imagine if I died, right here? That would be seriously humiliating. Mila'd think I committed suicide because I was too afraid to face Levi again. She rolled her eyes as she tore the soaked glove off, and then formed her plan.

The next half of the crossing would be easier since she could pull herself towards the rocky face assisted by ODM gas, but it would be an unwieldy trip using only one cable. She wasn't terribly concerned about the possibility of a Titan, though fighting with one sword would not be ideal. The only remaining option was to go back, which was out of the question.

Taking a steadying breath, she slid a few steps away from the hole and shot her single grapple towards the cave. It made purchase on the rock and didn't budge when she tugged at it. With the lightest touch of gas, the cable pulled her sideways and her boots skated along the ice. The going was tedious; she had to stop multiple times to avoid sharp bumps in the ice and suspiciously clear patches. After what felt like hours, she reached the cave, and groaned with relief when she stepped off the ice and felt the safety of hard ground. However, the sun was marching towards the horizon and she'd aimed to explore at least three caverns. The way things were going, she'd only have time for this one.

Katrine ventured into the cave and when she could no longer see sunlight, she pulled out the matches and dry twigs she'd collected days before and started a small fire to provide light and dry the wet glove. Frostbite would be a terrible souvenir to take from Utopia. She held her freezing hand over the flame, and the warming sensation was painful on her sensitive, raw skin. The delicate muscles screamed when she flexed her fingers. She stood and put her bare hand back into her waistband, touched rough fabric, and remembered the doll inside. With difficulty, she grasped it and pulled it out, glaring at it.

"Screw you too!" She considered dropping it into the fire, but instead it slipped from her fingers when she noticed at the corner of her eye a strange shadow on the wall. No, not a shadow, but a crevice. There was a hole in the wall full of small rocks placed in an unnatural manner, surrounding a brown leather bag. The color of the bag and its withered appearance made it blend seamlessly with its surroundings, and since no one came near this river, she imagined that it could have sat abandoned for years. Decades, even. She stared, unmoving, waiting for the bag to disappear and prove it was all a figment of her imagination, but it didn't. She was almost afraid to move forward and see what was in the bag, because maybe it was just some rotten food and not what led her to accept the assignment to Utopia in the first place. Part of the reason, anyway.

Katrine swallowed hard and forced her legs forward. The pain in her hand forgotten, she pushed the rocks aside and extracted the bag from its prison. The leather was cracked and peeling and its buckles caked with rust. However, it was dry; whoever had placed the bag in its crevice had the forethought to think of the river flooding in springtime. She knelt, pried the buckles open, and pulled out a hard object wrapped in a strange silky fabric. It released an herbal odor. She tore it away and found a book with a green cover and a picture embossed in black ink. It depicted what looked like a ship, but it was different than any ship she'd ever seen on the rivers in the districts. Those were lumbering, squat barges, while this looked angular and compact, with tall, triangular sails.

Careful not to damage it, she cracked open the book. The pages contained lines and lines of a beautiful handwritten script, unreadable and foreign. It was completely different than the written language used in the walls, which consisted of blocky and geometric characters. She couldn't tell where the words began and ended; it looked like deliberate looping lines.

She was right. It does exist.

Katrine wanted to stay longer and further study the book, but knew she had to get going before the sunlight vanished. She rewrapped the book in its fabric and placed it carefully in her pack, and then extinguished the fire and scattered the twigs to hide her presence. Pausing for a moment, she picked up the doll she had dropped before. She was relieved to have been wrong about its luck.

The return was easy since she knew what mistakes to avoid, and she arrived at Wall Rose right as the sun touched the edge of the horizon. She enjoyed her last Utopian dinner with her squad members; the normally bland food tasted warm and delicious. She smiled at Mila's incessant chatter about returning to the Scouts, laughed at Sara's dilemma that she would miss her Utopian lover but was equally excited to see Liam from Stohess, and gently chided Elisabeth's grumbling at the lack of meat in the food. Instead of spending the nighttime hours reading until her eyes burned as she usually did, Katrine went to sleep early and stayed asleep.

For the first time since she could remember, when her mother visited Katrine in her dreams, she didn't speak of the place where winter never ends. Instead, she embraced her only daughter.

It had been two days since Katrine told her what she had done to cause herself so much pain, so much humiliation, and Mila couldn't wrap her head around it. Katrine was so poised, almost self-centered, that she couldn't imagine her feeling any kind of anxiety about someone else's opinion of her.

She watched Katrine accept a formal goodbye from Utopia's mayor, allowing the rotund man to kiss her hand but fluidly avoiding his lips careening towards her cheek. She laughed at his remarks, gracefully deflected probing questions, and left him with a charming smile as she pushed the women out into the frigid air.

Now, as they galloped out the gate towards Stohess District, Mila studied her captain. Normally Katrine craned her head to and fro while on horseback, committing the characteristics of the landscape to memory. Today she stared straight ahead, a neutral expression on her face.

Mila was still shocked that Katrine could be hurt by someone else, and more so that she'd allow herself to be hurt.