Page 32 of Artemysia
“An elk turd of a man, but I warned him first. Told the lord I’dconvince Galke to let him live if he pledged loyalty. But he declined. And Galke didn’t want to have to fight Syf in the northanda competing kingdom to the south that controlled the metals, diamonds, and opals from Serpent’s Moon. It would take away resources from protecting people from Syf. Something like that.” His shoulders lift in a quick shrug.
“You could always refuse the job,” I say quietly, still horrified.
“Do you refuse your assignments?” he counters.
He has a valid point. I have never turned down a mission.
Riev continues. “Then I’d have a bounty on my head. Galke would twist things and accuse me of murdering the lord and colonel. Expose me for all the assassinations I’ve done for him. They’d rather put me in prison than not know where I am and risk me working against them with all the secrets I know. I could survive, but who wants to live likethat?” He spits out the words. “They always find a way to get you to do what they want. It’s all I’ve ever known—and I’m good at it. I used to feel useful.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m just a dispensable alley cat.”
“Ha. Who dresses nice to hide how dirty he feels inside?” I blurt, the words dying on my lips when I catch his entire expression fall.
He glances sideways and drags his icy gray stare over me.
I didn’t expect him to take it personally. I meant it only as snarky banter, seeing that to be his preference when we interact.
He’s dead silent.
My chest constricts. It was a thoughtless joke, but I apparently hit the nail on the head and drove it in to where his walls spring back up. Throg says I read people well. Sometimes too well. I use it to my advantage in battle or negotiation, but I would never hurt someone for fun.
“I didn’t mean—” I begin.
The corners of his mouth turn up slightly, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“That’s exactly how you should see me. Filth. As fucking wicked as I am handsome.” He’s back to being aloof with a side of vulgar.
He’s retreating, and it’s not what I want at all.
“You know that’s not true. It’s not how I see you at all,” I insist, butthe damage is done.
Riev refuses to meet my gaze and drives his elk forward.
He’s shut down. Hell, right when I was getting somewhere.
“Riev,” I call after him. “We’ve all had to engage in wretched behavior in this war with Syf. To survive. I’m good at it, but I hate the killing,” My voice breaks on the wordhate. It stabs me in the gut. “There’s…no other way.”
He doesn’t look back at me. “No, there is not.” His words come clipped, his voice coarse and low.
I hate the killing.I don’t know why, but my throat tightens. I have to do something I hate to make a difference in the world.There’s no other way.I’ve never confessed it aloud. Not to Throg, or my father…not to anyone. It hurts. It hurts that Riev is forced to feel the same way, and perhaps other soldiers too.
I never let myself think about it.
My plan has always been to move forward, climb the ranks, do whatever it takes to survive. It gives me purpose. A way to control my fears. I keep going to quell the anxieties rising when I wake up every morning.
Oh, terrific. The edges of my eyes burn. My first day as captain leading this troop, and emotion threatens to overwhelm me.Get it together, Delphine.
Emotion isnota weakness.
But I need to stay focused, so I compartmentalize my feelings and stop thinking about the gravity of what I do. Kill to live.
There’s no way that Riev would understand how I feel. I’ve scrubbed any expression off my face, and he doesn’t turn back at me anyway.
Nevertheless, something shifts in the air between us.
He slows until I’m riding alongside him, withers to withers, but his gaze stays focused straight ahead. He switches his reins to one hand, and fumbles in his pack with the other.
