Page 120 of Forcing Fate

“Commander Dewal!” I called out. I hoped my enthusiasm would banish any concerns he might have.

He looked me over. “All is well, cadet? The Healer has cleared you?”

I wiped the smile off my face and slapped my hands to my sides. “Yes, sir!” I barked.

His only response was a half-hearted grunt.

The day passed smooth enough after that. It was quiet. The obscene comments that normally followed my exercises—nonexistent. I was thankful for that, though their cold shoulders got under my skin. Their ridicule I could handle. However, their silence and exclusion ate away at me bit by bit.

I leaned against a wall, lightheaded, when I noted Niehm’s fiery hair through the throng of men. I smiled to myself and pushed off the building, heading toward her.

“Niehm!” I called, and she spun to face me, her dress flaring out.

“You little–” She grabbed me in a tight hug and squeezed so hard I squeaked in protest. When she pulled back, she eyed my bruises and her expression shifted from sorrow to anger. “Come.”

She led me in silence to the bunkhouse. My room appeared untouched. Nothing had been disturbed during my absence. I checked over my things as I grabbed my toiletries and spare uniform. My new tunic laid on the table, where it rested in the process of my mending. My cot was still made—everything was where I had left it.

As we started for the springs, Niehm strode with her head held high. I had a nagging suspicion she would either give me an earful in private or grab me in another hug. I knew her well enough that I could tell she kept a tight hold on her emotions.

“Where’s Elenor?” I asked.

“She wants to see you, but needs to wrap up something with the cook. She’ll be along shortly.” Her features softened as she spoke, and I realized just how worried she’d been.

This feeling in my heart was foreign. I focused on my toiletries and spare uniform to distract myself from the tightness in my chest. They cared about me. They really did. I had friends who I actually meant something to, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t benefit them, yet they’d always been there for me—trying to protect me. But why?

I chose Darrak as an ally for selfish reasons. I grew close to him, and could almost call him a friend, but we had an arrangement. We looked out for each other. I shared what I had with him and his presence kept the bullies away.

My breath caught, thinking of Victyr.

I stopped, searching the faces of the surrounding soldiers. Most everyone avoided my gaze. The ones who caught my eye turned their backs on me, whispering to their friends.

I was chilled and not simply because of the snow on the ground. My heart iced over. The men regarded me as a traitor. I’d been involved with their comrades’ deaths. Regardless of whether I was to blame, that’s how they saw it.

An older man made eye contact with me before making a rude gesture and turning away. At that moment, I felt utterly alone. Why had I believed these men would accept me? What had overcome me to entertain the idea that they would ever willingly fight beside me?

“Avyanna.”

Niehm’s voice cut through my thoughts and brought me back to the present. I shook my head and fell into step with her.

“Feeling well?”

“Well enough,” I muttered.

Anxiety curled low in my stomach. I needed to get away from this crowd. I could almost feel their menace, their disgust.

As we made our way along the road, reaching the far buildings, I attempted to silence my thoughts and focused on taking one step after another.

“Cadet.”

My head snapped up, locking my gaze on a single glittering eye. Niehm muttered darkly, but moved to my right. She must have remembered what General Rafe told her about getting between himself and his soldiers.

“General, sir!” I mustered as enthusiastically as I could, giving him a one-handed salute.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His tone grated on my spine.

Did I have a previous engagement? Was there somewhere else I was supposed to be? This was free time for the soldiers and cadets. As long as we stayed in the barracks, we were allowed to do as we pleased. Yet, his expression implied I was out of line.

“To wash up… sir?” I said, trying to gauge his temperament. He left this morning in a foul mood, and it seemed as though it hadn’t improved.

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