Page 18 of Crown of Iron
“You meanKyronhas kept you busy.”
I've not seen Leif since the day he left me in the general's office. From sunup to well past sunset, I'm kept busy with essential tasks that are nothing more than random trials. I have no doubt I've proved my ability to take orders and follow through. My first day at Basecamp was the one and only time I failed to do what Kyron and his officers demanded of me. It leaves me to question if I’ll ever get the chance to train and get close to the people here.
“My job isn't an easy one, Elle. I'm woken up in the middle of the night, the hours are long, and…” He takes in my scowl and sighs. “Sorry.”
“Everyone has to start at the bottom, right?”
He rubs the back of his neck and examines the tips of his boots. “Yeah.”
I nudge his shoulder with mine, leaving a smudge of dirt on his olive-green coat. “Hey, I'm working my ass off for this. And my siblings seem to be doing a good job of holding off my mother and Micah. I’m honestly surprised that no one has given up my location yet.”
He hums and props his elbows on his brown leather-clad knees and rests his chin on his knuckles. “I can't believe you still want to do this. I mean, look at you.” He sweeps his hand up and down and curls his lip. “And what are you wearing?”
“Other than pig shit? My uniform. They ran out of my size.” A tinge of jealousy courses through me; Leif looks like a force to be reckoned with in his officer’s jacket with brass buttons and his rank pinned to the collar. How can anyone take me seriously when I'm sleeping with the pigs and don't smell much better?
Leif gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment before standing. “Go back to your barracks and take a bath, and I'll meet you at the supplies station. We'll find you a fitting uniform.”
“They've not assigned me to a room yet.”
Leif stops and spins on his heels. Bright red crawls up his rain-covered face. “What do you mean you haven't been given a room?”
“I guess there's no space for me. I keep asking and waiting, but I've been sleeping in the stables.”
“Get up and let's go.”
“I'm not done feeding the animals,” I say, pointing behind me to the chicken roost.
“As a superior officer, I'm ordering you to stop what you're doing and come with me.”
“If Kyron gives me shit for this, I'm going to kick your ass.”
Leif grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. “Fuck Kyron.”
“Speaking of our general, why didn’t you tell me he was a Stigian?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I huddle beside him under his umbrella.
We weave through the rain-drenched street, avoiding the growing puddles where possible. “He’s not a Stigian,” Leif answers.
“But his eyes.” It’s the first sign we’re taught to look for as children. If someone has black eyes, then we know we're going to run. Every child in Lucent fears that a Stigian will break through the barrier that protects us and siphon their Statera-given power.
Leif stops walking and faces me. “I know what color his eyes are. Kyron may be an asshole, but trust me when I tell you that he is dedicated to this kingdom. He has been for a very long time.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your father…” He shakes his head. “Your father trusts Kyron. That’s all I needed to know.”
Guilt ties a knot in my gut. It’s that simple. My father trusts Kyron with his army. He left him in charge. Yet I still question his decision.
Our first stop is the supply station where I'm issued five new uniforms, several pairs of undergarments, and a brand-new set of boots. I follow Leif through the streets, crowded with soldiers, horses, and wagons stacked with boxes of necessities. We reach one of the many enormous log cabins housing the soldiers, and he yanks open the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He leads me through the communal area. Worn couches, round tables with abandoned card and board games, and a wall of overflowing bookshelves make up the shared space. “To my room so you can clean up,” he says as we climb a rustic staircase.
When we reach the end of the second-floor hallway, Leif opens the door. Knowing how finicky my best friend is about the cleanliness of his space, I tiptoe through his living area, skirting around the two overstuffed chairs that sit in front of a wood-burning furnace. I glance through the open door to his bedroom and spot a tidy bed, a chest of drawers, and a nightstand. Leif opens the washroom, and I almost drop to my knees at the sight of the copper tub. He pumps the lever on the wall, filling it with water, and leaves me to soak off the grime. It’s a struggle to peel out of my filthy clothes, but as soon as I do, I place them in the waste bin beside the wash basin.
The moment I sink into the lukewarm water, I release a sigh. My hands move swiftly to scrub away the grime from my skin and hair. Leif’s soap has my eyes fluttering with pure bliss. Eucalyptus and cedar just might be my new favorite scent.
When my skin prunes, I dry off, slip into my new uniform, and enter the living area.
