Page 106

“Your brother would be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

Fox’s throat bobbed in a sudden attempt to swallow. “Of course, sir.”

“I know we never talked about it when you joined, but I also know that this hadn’t been your plan originally. I still remember the little boy who spent every waking moment in the library reading and avoiding the training field.”

“I was young?—”

“Perhaps. But I also know you didn’t decide to join until Leon was killed in the attack all those cycles ago. It’s been an honor to watch you serve. I always knew you’d do great things. You have a head for strategy.”

Fox gave a crooked smile. “I suppose reading was good for some things.”

The chief commander gave him a long look before nodding. “Yes. I believe you’re right.” He stood suddenly, stepping around his desk without a word and pulling a small stack of books from the drawer. “It was with that in mind that I had these compiled from my personal library.”

Fox gave a small start when the chief commander placed the small stack into his hands. There were four books in total, bound in leather of varying ages. He could just make out the faded script on the first cover:War Strategies in Fighting Against Faith.

“Sir?”

“I feel you may find these helpful for moving forward.”

Fox was confused at the direction their conversation had taken.

“They aren’t required reading, of course,” the chief commander continued.

“Required?” Fox asked, a finger running over the smooth texture of the top book’s cover.

“For your promotion.”

Fox looked up, startled, face all too open.

The chief commander only smiled.

“The ceremony will be later, once we’ve had time to deal with the resistance prisoners. But I’ve already started the paperwork,” he waved back toward his desk and what he’d been writing out before, “JuniorMajorOcon.”

* * *

Fox leftthe chief commander’s house with the books tucked under his arm and permission for time off to visit his family before returning to his duties. Their manor was just a few doors down; their family being in the military for the past five generations had its perks.

It would have been kind of his father to remind the sergeant to send a messenger to Mother. Fox should have known he wouldn’t. When Ms. Salves opened the front door, she let out a scream, face going white at the sight of him. He didn’t bother with words of reassurance because a few moments later, he saw Mother come out from the drawing room, a letter opener clutched in her hands like a sword.

“I know I’m a bit late to dinner, but you don’t need to stab me.”

The snarky words fell from his tongue before he could stop himself, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t even sure she heard him. The moment she saw his face, she dropped the letter opener and ran toward him with a speed impressive in the slippers she wore.

Her hands fluttered around his face and shoulders, torn between wanting to pull him into a hug and assuring herself he was real. He made the choice for her, gripping her hands and pulling them to his face.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m back.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She didn’t speak and the tears traced down her face even as he felt his own at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried. He should have been embarrassed, but he didn’t care, not when she was looking up at him like he’d been raised from the dead.

“Have you eaten? Ms. Salves, put together supper for Fox!”

He smiled, a sense of comfort in her worrying about something so mundane as his hunger.

“I already ate. I had to stop at Chief Commander Harlow’s to debrief.”

She stepped back, lips pinching down in a frown and he knew the interrogation was about to begin.

“Where have you been this entire time? Are you okay? You look horrible and you smell like the slums. We thought you were dead. Your fathertoldme you were dead.” She let out a sob, biting on her knuckle for a second as she breathed. “I knew you weren’t. I could feel you were still alive. I prayed to the dead kings to protect you.”