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“Don’t even think about it,” he chided, shaking his head. “I barely have a bruise. I knew you were holding back on me, and while you shouldn’t have, I appreciate the thought.” He was halfway across the room when he paused, a boyish smile spreading. “Now youcan’tget rid of me. I doubt anyone will mess with you after that display.”
Patrick loped off, leaving me alone and aching, though my lips curled up at the sides.
Yep, just like Liam.I imagined the two of them would get along exceedingly well. If the handful of boring botany and books of lore tucked neatly below Pat’s cot were any indication of their likeness, I wasn’t sure what was.
They could keep those dusty tomes to themselves.
I rolled onto my side, wincing at the stinging in my jaw.
While my pride had been horribly bruised—along with my face—I regretted nothing. Harlowhadsaid there were no rules. Besides, he hadn’t played fair either.
He’d deserved that punch, and I hoped his jaw ached just as much as mine.
I lay back down on my cot, a cruel smile blossoming as I replayed the fight over and over again.
Give me your worst, Harlow.
…
After the other recruits were snoring peacefully in their beds, I found the strength to haul myself to the bathing suite.
I’d just set down my towel and gone to unbutton my blouse when I glimpsed a swathed bundle from the corner of my eye.
Abandoning my buttons, I ambled over to where a piece of burlap was tied together with a string. It sat on a wooden stool in the corner of the chamber, and I would have overlooked it entirely if not for the bright red ribbon.
I undid the bow with aching fingers to reveal a clear glass jar.
Unscrewing the lid, I found a jellied ointment that smelled of mint and some medicinal scent. I was about to place the jar back when a slip of a note fluttered to the stone steps.
For your face, recruit.
The crude scrawl had been scribbled in haste with no initial or name indicating who it was from. Yet, I knew. I could practically hear the deep timbre of the commander’s voice as though he’d whispered the words across my mind.
Why had he left this here for me?
I’d seen him just before I’d passed out, an unreadable expression marring his face, both of his fists clenched at his sides. He’d watched as I’d struck Harlow and disobeyed a direct order. He likely thought I deserved the punishment of being sent to the Guard, where I’d die at the hands of the king’s enemies.
And yet—
Not thinking too long on the act of unexpected kindness, I promptly undressed, folding my clothes and laying my gloves atop the neat pile beside the jar of ointment.
When I finished my bath, feeling better, I dressed and slipped the jar and note inside my trouser pockets.
That night, nestled safely beneath my linens, I applied the ointment to my aching jaw and black eye. My monstrous headache gratefully turned into a dull throbbing.
As I’d slept most of the day, I stayed up most of the night, my arms crossed behind my head as I thought of all I had left behind.
I might have convinced myself I’d lost so much, but the truth, found sometime around midnight, was that I didn’t have much waiting for me.
Liam was my brother and friend. Uncle Micah, my trainer. Most times I didn’t think he even saw me as a person, only a weapon to be used and honed. He never embraced me as family should, and I’d gone my entire life wishing for just one look of approval. The closest I’d gotten to making him proud was the day I turned fourteen. I’d been late to our session and come across some lost travelers in the Pastoria Forest. A group of thieves had attacked, stealing their few possessions of worth.
I’d plunged into the chaos without thought, managing to defeat two of the four assailants. But the third was a man three times my size. He knocked me on my ass, and I lost consciousness.
When I woke, the travelers were gone, as were the thieves. And hovering above was Micah, his lips curled up at the corners. “You tried, even though you knew you’d fail,” he’d said gruffly. “And that’s what matters.”
When he offered me his hand, I swore my heart leaped out of my chest.
Aside from Micah, I had my parents to consider, although I often felt their disappointment. They might feel love for me, but I was the child who’d made them social outcasts. No matter how hard they tried to hide it, I was the shame they carried, and no number of false smiles could disguise that truth.
