Unsure of what to make of this unexpected exchange, Deckard held up a hand. “Excuse me,” he interrupted, and Lieutenant Silvaa jerked away from Evylin as though realizing how untoward he’d been. He snapped to attention as Deckard asked, “Evylin, how do you know the lieutenant?”
“My apologies, Colonel,” Silvaa broke in before she could reply, a nervous tremor in his voice. “I forgot myself. Evie—she’s my sister-in-law.”
Deckard raised his chin as Evylin jumped in to add, “Druan is married to my eldest sister, Euna. We thought—well, last I heard,” she turned to the lieutenant, “we thought he was dead.”
Druan Silvaa’s expression pinched. “You thought I was dead?”
Evylin shrugged. “Euna hadn’t heard from you in more than half a year. Which,” she adopted a scolding look, “you’d better rectify immediately.”
“Oh!” Druan sighed. “No, no, I know. I tried to write, but I was stationed in Tesscomb, and they didn’t care much about the post down there.”
Deckard raised his brow at the mention of Tesscomb. Like Ostwatch, it was on the border of Wauld and Ephria, though not as dangerous as the notorious post he’d served. But that didn’t make it any less daunting an assignment. The lieutenant had seen many hard days, to be sure.
“We have exchanged letters since my reassignment here in Loclight, though,” Druan assured Evylin. “Euna knows I’m alive, and I’m happy to say she and the girls are doing well too.” His dark eyes flickered to Deckard for only a second. “I also heard allabout your marriage. Euna was right peeved you didn’t bother inviting her to your wedding.”
Evylin’s chin dipped bashfully. “Oh, I—it was rather unexpected.”
“You’re telling me,” Druan said with a twinkle in his gaze. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down.”
“Neither did I,” Evylin said dryly.
With a smile, Deckard held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant,” he said as they shook. “I hope to further our acquaintance in the future and to make amends to your wife for our poor manners. I regret that I never got to meet her or your children.”
Druan smirked and turned to Evylin. “How’d you get such a proper gentleman to stoop to your squalor?” he teased.
“I tricked him,” Evylin said flatly.
Druan snorted. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Colonel,” he said. “I’m sure Magistrate Glaas was right proud to make this match. A gentleman and a high-ranking officer working on the king’s commission to boot.” He let out a low whistle. “The brownnoser must be beside himself.”
Finding that Druan was no more a fan of their father-in-law than Deckard, he couldn’t help his amused grin. “We haven’t spoken in some time, but I don’t think he’d be glad to know that I’ve helped his daughter become a soldier,” he said.
While Druan laughed, Evylin set a hand on Deckard’s arm. “Looks like the welcome party has arrived,” she murmured.
Deckard and Druan both followed her gaze, turning to see General Rand descending the staircase, two other officers in tow. A young private hurried behind, carrying a ledger and pen. The double gold braids on Rand’s right shoulder gleamed in the sunlight, his hooked nose and sharp eyes giving him the cunning look of a hawk about to swoop down on its prey. He walked in strides filled with superiority.
“Colonel Deckard,” the general said brusquely. He came to a stop before the trio, his eyes scanning them haughtily. “I’m surprised to see you. You’ve been gone so long that I thought you might have died.”
Having spent far too much time with Hewitt to cow to the general’s aggression, Deckard adjusted his posture to that of an officer at ease. “Gratefully not, sir,” he said with a light tone. “My men and I have returned for a short resupply before continuing on with the king’s mission. It’s good of you to greet us.”
General Rand didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, he turned to look beyond him. “Lord and Lady Calder,” he greeted indifferently, drawing Deckard’s attention to their arrival at his back along with the rest of his men. “As the king’s guests, I hope you’ve had a pleasant journey. While there isn’t much to entertain the likes of nobility such as yourselves in the barracks, I’m afraid I must beg you to wait here while I speak with Colonel Deckard and the rest of my men.”
“My apologies, General,” Auden said, stepping up. “But why would they need to meet with you?”
Rand arched an eyebrow. “Because they are my soldiers, and I require them to debrief me on their mission.”
“Pardon me, sir,” Evylin said sweetly, drawing Rand’s scorn. “But I don’t work for you.”
Rand’s haughty scowl spoke for him. Still, he added, “Despite your appointment to His Majesty’s services, I would have to agree, madam, you arenota soldier.”
Deckard’s jaw tightened, but Evylin’s lips lifted in a sly smirk. Behind them, Thom scoffed as though aware of the mistake Rand had made.
“Oh, I understand, General,” Evylin said cordially. “You don’t agree with King Ephren’s decision to appoint me as one of hischosensoldiers for this classified mission of ours. Perfectly understandable. I am, after all, a woman with such littleunderstanding of military proceedings and swordplay. Perhaps you could teach me. Then maybe the king’s choice won’t be so erroneous in your mind.”
“I take no issue with King Ephren’s choices, madam,” Rand said, his dark voice thick with agitation. “His Majesty is perfectly within his rights to commission whomever he likes into his services. I wouldn’t begin to question his wisdom.”
“Then you won’t question our refusal to meet with you,” Deckard said. “Our mission is, as Private Deckard said, classified and only for the king’s ears. You’ll forgive us for leaving you in the dark.”
Rand took a threatening step forward, flat gray eyes boring into Deckard. “I am the king’s head of the military in Loclight,” he hissed. “That means that I am in charge of all assignments and proceedings regarding my men. Therefore, Colonel, there is no such thing as a mission above my classification. You will report to me as your commanding officer.”
