Page 30 of Forcing Fate

“He’s here? How was he injured?” she pressed.

“I’m not sure, Master,” I said, my heart racing. “I think he lost an eye on the front.”

“An eye? Oh my, that’s horrible.” Her tone softened as she caressed the fabric. “He was such a sweet boy. I made these for him when he was promoted to General, you know.”

Sweet boy? Were we talking about the same General?

“Perhaps it is fate that you help me mend it, then,” I said, wringing my hands.

“I don’t know about fate, dearie. You might not be thankful you brought this to me. This is a General’s overcoat. Rafe didn’t like to wear much, being the rake he was. I made him a coat and tunic in one.” She looked from the tunic to me, gaze sharpening. “You have your work cut out for you. This was made by a Master Seamstress. You must mend it as though you are a Master, yourself.”

I resisted a cringe, schooling my face and once again doubted my resolve. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out a chair and sat next to Master Elta as she rocked, ready to learn all her secrets… and perhaps humble a General.

It was dark when I finally left Master Elta’s workshop. The eighth chime rang out some time ago, and though I tried to hurry the mending, Master Elta would have none of it. Willhelm was probably looking for me, and I had to return the General’s tunic.

I hurried down the path as quickly as I dared. The full moon illuminated my way, and I rushed toward the glow of the fires beyond the wall. No torches lined the paths here, yet from what I could see on the barracks’ side, they had torches and fires lit everywhere. The school grounds had a curfew, and apparently, the barracks did not.

Master Elta accepted my request to write a note pardoning my late night adventures, conceding that I take the General’s tunic back to him straight away.

I hurried to the guards who stood near the gate, closed for the night. “Hail, I seek entry!” I called.

A guard peered through and frowned, opening the gate for a closer look. I handed them my orders for General Rafe, as well as my note of pardon from Master Elta.

“Ah, you’re looking for the General?” the guard asked, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Yes, I must see this to him,” I said, holding up the tunic.

He winced. “I’m afraid he’s indisposed.”

I tilted my head, waiting for an explanation. He shifted his feet and raised his brows at the other guard, silently asking for backup. The second guard mouthed something, then shook his head, relenting.

“Yeah, you can’t see him.” Clearly, the other guard wasn’t as bright as the first.

“I have to get this to him. He’s expecting it tonight,” I pressed.

“Nah, we can have someone give it to him, though,” said the second guard.

And rob me of the satisfaction of seeing his face? Hardly.

“You must understand. He will be upset if I don’t get this to him.” Where was Willhelm when I needed him? “Is Sergeant Willhelm about?” I asked. Perhaps I’d gain entry through him.

“He would be in the dining hall or his quarters. I could send someone to fetch him,” the first guard offered.

I almost refused. I’d gotten by just fine without an escort earlier today. But, noticing the soldiers drifting here and there, drinking what I assumed was ale or mead, I thought better of wandering about the barracks alone.

“Yes, please. That will do,” I conceded.

The first guard called over a cadet to fetch Sergeant Willhelm, and off the young man went, eyeing me as he left.

“A word of caution, miss.” The first guard lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t leave the gate. Wouldn’t seem proper with a man and all.”

I frowned. Fire-blast it all, he was right. It wouldn’t look good for me at all to be seen walking around the barracks at night, even with Willhelm’s escort. In fact, that would probably be worse. With as often as the soldiers witnessed us together, showing up late at night and being seen with him walking the streets would appear inappropriate. Frustrated, I kicked at the dirt with my boot and bit my lip.

I wanted the satisfaction of being there when General Rafe saw his mended tunic. Perhaps I could just wait till the morning. But now what would my excuse be for interrupting Willhelm’s meal? To apologize? To say goodnight? That would be even more unseemly.

“Miss Avyanna?”

I looked up at Willhelm’s voice as he made his way to me. The torchlight threw his face into shadows, making his features seem sharper.

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