Page 42 of Savage Devotion
More than military necessity requires.
Personal confidence in her judgment.
Something shifts in her expression, recognition of the faith I'm placing in her capabilities. This isn't just temporary command—it's acknowledgment of her worth as warrior and leader.
Trust offered. Vulnerability exposed.
Professional courtesy or personal connection?
Both.
Definitely both.
"I won't disappoint you."
Promise given. Responsibility accepted.
Personal commitment rather than mercenary obligation.
She understands the stakes.
"I know."
Truth. Confidence.
Faith in her competence.
Maybe something more.
I move toward my equipment storage, mentally cataloging items needed for extended reconnaissance operation. Weapons, armor, supplies for several days in hostile territory. Standard preparation for dangerous work.
Routine. Familiar.
Combat readiness over personal concerns.
Focus on mission requirements.
Ressa follows, her presence both distraction and a comfort as I sort through gear. She understands military preparation, the methodical process that separates professional warriors from enthusiastic amateurs.
Shared knowledge. Common experience.
Understanding without explanation.
Partnership developing through mutual respect.
"Light armor?" she observes as I select leather reinforced with metal plates rather than full battle gear.
"Speed over protection. Reconnaissance requires mobility."
Tactical choice. Calculated risk.
Stealth and information over defensive capability.
Standard doctrine for advance operations.
"Weapons?"
I lift my paired fighting axes, balanced for close combat rather than throwing. The handles show wear from countless hours of practice and application, leather wrappings shaped by my grip.
