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Darian moves first, swatting her staff out the way and taking another step to the door. Marge swings the wood down on the top of his head, smacking him with a loud‘thud,’and Darian spins on her with an incinerating scowl.

Nolan mirrors my own gaping mouth and wide eyes at the movement.

“Your life is your own to ruin. But you’re not going to make things harder for me by bringing more in here to tend to,” Marge warns. “Do you understand me?”

“I don’t remember asking, nor caring, for your opinion,” Darian quips.

“Speak to me like that one more time, and I’ll cut you off.”

Darian falls silent, computing whatever it is she means by it. After a few still moments, he ducks his head and leaves. Nolan and I exchange a glance, awkwardly pretending we didn’t just witness it all.

I help Marge gather vials and materials while she assesses Nolan’s injury. Luckily for Nolan, it doesn’t seem to be broken, but Marge instructs him to rest for a few days.

Melaina enters the room and sweeps over to Nolan. “Are you okay? It looked like an awful hit.”

Nolan nods. “I’m fine.”

Marge commands Melaina and me to take Nolan back to his room, and that I’m dismissed afterwards. The three of us slip out of the healer’s quadrant to Nolan’s room and slide him into his bed.

Melaina turns to me, tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for your help…”

“Katerina,” I finish for her with a smile.

She mirrors my grin. “Katerina. Nice to meet you, I’m Melaina.”

“Nolan,” Nolan introduces himself through gritted teeth.

I nod my head to both of them and leave, finding Cole outside waiting.

“How’s Nolan?” he asks.

“Marge doesn’t think it’s broken, but he’s on bed rest for a few days.”

Cole sighs, running a hand through his hair.

I glance around us to ensure no one else is in earshot. “Why don’t you discharge Darian? He’s nothing but a menace to everyone here.”

“It’s not that easy. He’s the best swordsman in the Kingdom. Chosen by the King himself—”

“Then why doesn’t the King have him? Did he piss him off, too?” I hiss.

“The King wanted him to train all of our northern posts. With the uptick in rebel attacks, he’s our best bet at teaching our squads some serious combat moves. But he’s been refusing.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Cole blows out a breath. “I think he’s a little pissed. He expected he would lead his own squad. When he arrived, I don’t think he realized I would be the captain.”

“So, he’s thinking his power move is to be a dick to everyone? Can’t you negotiate some sort of terms?”

If Cole leaves with me and Daeja, perhaps Darian could take the coveted captain role. Although, considering how it would affect Archie, Marge, and everyone else in the squad, maybe it’s a bad idea.

Cole frowns. “Drunks, terrorists, and toddlers aren’t worth negotiating with. And he’s essentially all three.”

I snort, scanning around us in case he’s lingering about. “So he’s mad at you?”

“Yep.”

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s a complete ass toeveryoneelse.”