Page 38 of Crown of Iron
“Where are we going?” I ask him while nodding in greeting to a group of fellow new soldiers making their way to the nightly bonfire.
“So many questions for a girl who spends her time climbing walls and shoveling horse shit.”
I plaster a sarcastic smile on my face and bat my eyelashes. “If I climb to the top of the damn wall, I don't have to shovel horse shit anymore.Do you see where I'm going with this?”
“Relax and enjoy,” he says, opening the hub's door. The desks are empty, and all is quiet on the ground floor as we head toward the officer's corridor. The closer we get to the end of the hall, the more nervous I get. Kyron will return from wherever he went and the last place I want to be is anywhere near him.
I open my mouth to voice my intent to leave when we turn down another hallway I've never visited before. It's short with three metal doors, each labeled as belonging to one of Kyron's most trusted officers. Terro opens the door with a plaque that reads:Colonel Greer Roja. We enter what looks more like a saloon than an office. A bar carved out of black wood houses countless bottles of alcohol along the back wall. Trophies from the battles she's fought, like pieces of armor, swords, and a half-burned Stigian flag adorn the walls. I shiver and shift my attention to the large round table in the center of the room. Greer shuffles a deck of cards, and Ulric chugs from a large stein, the contents dripping from his beard.
“We need a fourth player,” Terro says, guiding me to an empty seat.
“I take it I'm filling in for Kyron,” I say. Greer hands me a small glass of amber liquid, and I swallow it in one gulp, trying to wash away the taste of his name from my lips.
She tilts her head side-to-side and her neck cracks. “He knows the rules: if he doesn't show, then he forfeits.”
Ulric slams his empty stein on the table and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Aye, been the rules for over seven years now. Sickness or health, you better show for card night.”
The authority the three officers display outside of this room demands my respect. I always viewed them as much older than me, but here, hidden away from their responsibilities, I realize how young they are. Greer's youthful green eyes, the scattering of freckles against Ulric's porcelain cheeks, and Terro, well, he already looks too young to be pouring himself such a hefty glass of whiskey. They’re barely in their prime, yet dedicated to such an important cause.
“Have you ever played before?” Terro asks from behind the bar.
“This isn't the game where the loser has to take off an article of clothing, is it?” I ask.
Ulric jumps to his feet and pulls up his tunic, putting his pale freckled stomach on display. “Look at this, nanny goat! Don't you want to play andsee it in all its glory?”
With a snicker, Terro takes his seat and playfully smacks his friend's abs twice. “I've seen more meat on a starving chicken.”
Ulric's hearty laughter fills the room, and he tugs one of Terro's braids before taking his chair again.
Greer lets down her tough exterior and pure amusement paints her face. She drops a full satchel on the table in front of me, and the coins inside clink. “No one wants to see Ulric naked, but I'll make it worth your while. You can play with Kyron's winnings.”
I eye the money, smirk, and pull it to my side of the table. At this point, I've run out of options with him. If chasing him down wasn't enough to get his attention, maybe messing with his money will do the trick. I either win big and he's happy. Or I lose it all, and he comes looking for me to wring my neck. All the same, this should be fun.
“Tough luck, Elle,” Greer says, pulling the coins in the center of the table to her side.
“You're a bit too excited to be taking the money of a man who isn't here to defend it,” Ulric says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
Greer turns to me and asks, “Are you playing to the best of your ability?”
“Sure.” Kyron's satchel—which started as the largest pile of coins—is substantially smaller. And truth be told, I played the card game with the intention of winning. But I also don't feel bad about losing his money. Like Ulric said, he should be here.
“Then I'm nottakingit.” She shifts the coins around to make neat stacks. “I'm earning back every dime that rotten cheater took from me.”
“He's told you he doesn't read your feelings during cards. You just can't keep a straight face. Notice how you have only won against Elle. She doesn't know how your lip twitches when you have a good hand.” Terro lifts a brow and smirks.
“I'll show you a twitch,” she says, aiming her fist toward his bicep.
He jumps from his seat yelling, “Mercy,I claim mercy!”
The laid-back way the three of them banter reminds me of my siblings, and it makes me a little homesick. They’re so carefree when they're not restricted by their duties, and I wonder how Kyron fits into their dynamic. Is he the friend who remains quiet and shakes his head at their immaturity? Or does he bring an endless supply of brooding sarcasm?
“Pathetic,” Greer sneers, but her eyes reflect the truth. She adores her friends. “Sit down and let me prove you wrong.”
She shuffles the deck and deals out the cards face down.
“Remember that time Ky played cards with the West Camp's commander and cheated him out of his horse?” Terro asks, taking his seat and watching Greer from the corner of his eye.
Ulric laughs. “And his officer's jacket. I'll never forget the next morning. He strutted right across the training field with it on, and Abrum lost it.”
