Page 35 of Crown of Iron
I jerk to attention and turn to the short man with a booming voice. He stands to the other side of the wall with his beefy dark-tan arms folded over his chest. Rain drizzles down his closely shaven head, and his expression is frozen in a scowl. Greer is a ray of warm sunshine and a bouquet of wildflowers compared to Drill Sergeant Wel.
“Fine, I'll do it,” I say.
The tiny fibers of the rope prick into my hands as I place one foot on the wall, stomping it twice for good measure. With a deep breath and a hop, I pull my other foot up. The rope shudders with my weight, and I grip it tighter. Moving one hand over the other and with tiny shuffling steps, I climb. I focus on the knots in the wood, setting small goals upward.
“Are you actually going to do it this time?” Leif asks from below.
I know I shouldn't look away, but I do. With his hands in his pockets, he stops beside Wel, and the two nod in greeting. Normally, I wouldn't think anything of it except Wel's brown eyes light up, and he cracks a tight-lipped smile. Leif one-ups his smile with a wink, and Wel bumps his hip into my best friend's.
“Keep moving, Elle,” Greer barks.
My gaze shoots down and my arms tremble with a ferocity that loosens my grip. My ass hits the ground with a thump, splashing mud and water all over me. The fall felt like it took forever, but when I spot my muddy imprints on the wall, I know I didn't make it very far. It was another pathetic attempt.
“Go grab your lunch and head for the pigpens. You're a damn disgrace, soldier.” Wel marches off the course, but not before him and Leif exchange another grin.
Greer stares at me with her arms over her chest, making no attempt to help me as I slosh through the muck to my feet. “I'm serious about overcoming this,” she says. “It’s a qualifier to place in a regiment. Kyron won't take you if you don't climb this wall. And honestly, it would be a shame because you’re exceptional in every other way. We could use more soldiers with your pure determination.”
My breath hitches and my jaw drops. Our verbal exchanges have increased since I began training. It’s mostly clipped orders—run faster, stay focused, you got this. They’re just general phrases she spouts at every new soldier. Never has she taken it to a personal level, until now.
“I promise to put my all into overcoming the fear,” I say.
With a nod, she walks away, and Leif takes her place.
“Do you want to throw in your two bits about my fear of heights?” I ask, rubbing my throbbing ass.
“No, I knew it would be a struggle for you.”
“That's a nice way of putting it.” I remove my jacket and wipe the clean inside over my muddy face and hands.
We stroll away from the obstacle course, giving the rain a chance to wash some grime from my uniform. The silence expands between us, and I bite the inside of my cheek. This is an unplanned visit from Leif, and I can't help thinking he's here to bring bad news. Every day I grow closer to Micah dragging me home, back to duty and away from feeling productive in ways that count.
“There's no word today,” he says, putting an end to my worry.
“That's good.”
I don't know why Micah is letting this go for so long. By now, he has pressed my siblings for answers and Rowan has given in. Maybe my brother wasn't specific about my whereabouts, and since Leif is the only person here who knows my true identity, they haven't tracked me yet. Whatever it is, I'm thankful for every additional day I get.
“What's the deal with you and Wel?” I ask. “I haven't seen you flirt like that since we were home.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
I laugh and bump him with my hip. “Is that code formeet me in my bedroom?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Fine, Wel and I have spent some time together, just a few late nights talking and a kiss or two. But it's nothing serious.”
We walk into the mess hall, moving past the rows of long tables packed with soldiers and get in line for our food. “You said the same thing about Rose Brien, but I remember you being heartbroken when she left.”
“Rose left for Stigian. Weren'tyousad to hear what she had done?” He's deflecting. His feelings ran deep for his first love.
“Yeah, I was sad, but what can we do?”
“Nothing,” he says, sadness laced in his response.
We move forward, and the clinking of silverware on tin plates and carefree conversations mask my next question. “Do you want it to be seriouswith Wel? And don't give me a bullshit answer; be honest.”
“It doesn't matter what I want right now. I'm not in a position to make that work.” He holds up his hand and wiggles the finger with his betrothal ring. “My options are always going to be limited. Who wants to come second to a queen?”
Although playfully spoken, his words sting. Royal traditions, diplomatic meals, declarations to the kingdom—Leif's first obligation is to me, and mine is to the duties of the crown. Our marriage will be unbalanced in so many ways, and I hate that I'll be the reason he misses out on falling in love.
