Page 77 of Forcing Fate

“I have a sense of self-respect. My body is worth more than to be viewed by hundreds of men.” I held my head high, knowing my value.

“You wish to fight with them? You will bathe with them, sleep with them. You think they will make exceptions for you?”

“They have not thus far, ma’am.”

“Hmph.” She withdrew into herself again, lost in her thoughts as her eyes darted over me.

I honestly wished she would inspect me here, in privacy. It would be special treatment compared to the others, but I wanted to keep going. I knew I was physically fit—as well as I could be. I could pass if given the chance.

“Well, strip then—everything off.” She waved a hand over my dress.

I tried not to let out the sigh of relief I’d been holding and slipped out of my dress and under-breeches.

She eyed me up and down with a heavy sigh. “You? You, of all people, want to become a soldier? You’re skin and bones.” She tsked and circled me, searching for signs of disease or handicap.

I knew what she saw—the angles of my bones visible through my thin, pale skin. My lean and wiry muscles did nothing to bulk up my frame, and the spattering of freckles over my pale skin was my only distinctive feature.

She took note of the only deformity I had. The fingers of my right hand had been broken in the past, healing without any more damage than a slight crook. Besides that, I was as able-bodied as anyone.

She had me put on my under-breeches again and ran me through a series of tests. She measured my breathing, tested my reflexes and vision—my hearing. I passed everything.

I sat on the cot, dressed and waiting for her to dismiss me when she dismissed her assistant instead. I frowned as the small girl trotted off and returned my attention to the Healer.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I will fail you if you want me to. I am not above writing something to spare you this misery of a life. You passed, however unlucky you are, and I could also report that to Commander Dewal.”

“I aim to be a soldier, ma’am. The first female soldier.”

“Paving the way for us all, yes, I know.” She took a seat next to me on the cot. “Just how naïve are you?”

“Begging your pardon?”

“How much do you know about men and women? The birds and bees? The way of courtship? For all that is good and right in the world, do you know the way of a man with a woman?!” She seemed exasperated, and a blush crept up my cheeks as I shook my head.

Mind, I had a rough idea, thanks to the gossipmongers in the laundry room. However, I had never been with a boy, never kissed. Never desired to do so. Even in my wildest imagination, I couldn’t envision ever wanting to.

She muttered and rubbed her face with her palm. “I’m going to explain some things to you—and before you say that you don’t want or need to know—you chose this for yourself. The moment you stepped foot in that recruitment tent, and demanded that you, as a woman, had the same rights as any man, you painted a target on your back. There are men out there that want nothing more than to teach you a woman’s ‘proper place’, which would be directly beneath their rutting bodies.”

Blood drained from my face and an invisible vice gripped my throat

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to talk about this any more than you. Your mother and father are not here, correct?” She waited for me to nod. “I figured. No parent in their right mind would let their daughter join the ranks.”

I bit my lip, thinking of what my mother would do if she knew what I attempted.

“There will be men who will try to attack you. It’s inevitable. I cannot have it on my conscience knowing that I did not prepare you for such an event.” She took a deep breath as I ducked my head. “I’m going to tell you things you don’t want to hear—things that will make you look at men with fear and disgust, but I’m going to say them all the same. And you will listen. You will listen because you put yourself in this position, and if, by the terrible chance one of them succeeds in having their way with you, you need to know what to do.”

I sat on the cot, stiff and uncomfortable. My ears and cheeks burned, and I refused to make eye contact unless she demanded I repeat whatever she said.

She was right. I didn’t want to hear the horrible, awful things she had to say. I didn’t want to know how a man could purposefully hurt a woman, or even acknowledge that there were men out there that would attack me with the sole intention of hurting me.

I looked down at my hands, studying every scab, every smudge of dried blood, and tried not to think about her remarks too long.

I listened, though. I soaked her words up like a sponge and stored them far back in my mind. So far back, I would only pull them out if absolutely necessary. Everything she said, I needed to hear, and I was truly thankful for it—even if it was mortifying. If something like that ever happened to me, I would appreciate knowing what to do, where to go, and what to say.

There were distinctions between genders for multiple reasons. The King set clear boundaries, and they were not to be crossed. Now that I had found a way around one, I was without his protection. I threw myself to the wolves, begging to be made a wolf. I didn’t know if I had it in me to stand up for myself and face down the pack.

She explained that if a man attacked me—it did not lessen my value. I had a strong sense of worth, if nothing else, and even if they violated me, I was still worth every bit I was now. I was worth every bit of pride and self-respect. Someone else’s actions did not dictate that.

So, I sat there, listening in agonizing silence, because I knew it was necessary. It could help me in the future, regardless of if I wanted to acknowledge it.

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