Page 6

Every spine in the tent straightened, some with more success than others.

Kat, for her part, instantly wished she hadn’t dropped her gag as she learned the healer’s hands were nowhere near completing their work.

But in the presence of a centurion—and in the presence of Mira Morgenstern in particular—you couldn’t afford to slouch.

“At ease,” Mira said, but it had the weight of a dare, and none of them had the temerity to test its bounds.

She stood at the entrance to the med tent, her posture prim and perfect with her hands folded neatly behind her back, accentuating the ten golden tokens that lay in a single rank across her chest, hung on chains that wove with the spill of her glossy, flaxen hair.

They never saw her with it down from its battle braids. It was yet another reminder of the aftermath they lived in, uncontestable proof that the world had shifted.

“Katrien is right,” Mira continued. “The infantry may not have had the glory of winning this war, but you had the honor of fighting it, and were it not for our efforts, there wouldn’t have been an opening for the finishing blow in the first place.

As to the nature of that blow, as Elise has so helpfully informed you, securing herself latrine duty for the next three weeks—”

Elise sucked a breath through her teeth.

“—it was indeed the work of Aureans who have been training for this moment their entire lives. There will be a briefing for the century later this evening, but I can see it might not be soon enough, given the amount of misinformation certain elements in this decade tend to spread.”

Her imperious gaze landed pointedly on Sawyer before crossing to the shieldbearers and making sure Carrick knew she had him in her sights as well.

“Of far more immediate concern to you sorry fuckers…” Mira said, and a twinge rattled through Kat. Mira’s tone only dropped from that haughty, overeducated high-speak to the scuzz of common infantry for two reasons. The first was that she was mid-battle and ready to kill.

The second—

“We have a disciplinary matter to settle.”

Pain had obliterated enough of Kat’s common sense that she opened her mouth to confess right then and there.

Yes, I broke regulation and had a consensual encounter with my battle partner and fellow hinge.

Yes, in your cot. She could add, In my defense, we were both sure we’d die yesterday, but she doubted it’d buy her any sympathy.

Mira’s focus, however, was still centered on the shieldbearers’ bench.

“We are all very lucky to be alive, but none more so than Emory here. And because I was out fighting ahead of the lines at the time, I had the great fucking misfortune of watching him violate a precept I believe I’ve drilled into you all more times than I can count.

Anyone care to share what it was? Other than you, ” Mira added as Emory tried to dislodge his gag.

“He broke rank,” Giselle piped up from the opposite bench, and Emory frowned at the protégée he’d trained perhaps a bit too well.

Mira gave her a stiff nod that was, in her language, the equivalent of gushing praise and a pat on the head.

“The line was intact—a fucking miracle after that shock knight got right into it. Your only job when something like that happens is to make sure that shield wall is rock-solid for the next hit. You’re the hinge shield of this decade, Emory.

If their order gets disrupted, it’s your sacred duty to guide them back to it.

And instead, you threw yourself out ahead of the rest of the century. Spit that thing out and tell me why.”

Emory’s gaze found Kat’s as he pulled the leather strap from between his teeth.

It felt fraught, felt obvious in plain sight of their decade and their centurion, but Kat couldn’t tear herself away.

“I’m only half of the hinge,” he said roughly.

“My battle partner had been knocked out ahead of the century. I saw an opening to cover her so she could get back in line.”

Kat had never heard him deliver a wrong answer so confidently before. She wondered if the healer noticed the kick in her pulse as dread began to dampen her palms.

“What you did,” Mira said, a lethal edge in her tone, “was choose the life of a single soldier over a hundred. The century lives and dies by that line, and you thought it was worth punching a hole in it to protect one person.”

Emory’s breath caught—whether from physical pain or from the shame of Mira’s reprimand, Kat wasn’t sure.

Unlike most of their unit, Emory was an enlisted man.

He’d spent his entire adult life in the service of the Telrusian army, signed on for twenty years where most of them would serve only five.

Up until recently, his record had been completely unblemished.

And Kat had helped him break that streak.

“It was my fault,” she blurted. “I should have gotten back in line faster. He never should have felt like he needed to defend me in the first place.” Her memories of the moment were a tumult of panic in the wake of the shock knight’s blow, but surely there was something she could have done. Surely Mira would understand.

But Mira was pursing her lips, shaking her head, and looking at her with terrifying fondness.

“You’re wrong about the first part, but the second bit is right.

Emory moved on the assumption you couldn’t defend yourself, but you’re a single-token Aurean and a seasoned warrior with three years of service under your belt.

Why he felt the need to come to your aid—”

Kat tried to school her features into perfect blankness that only got more difficult as Mira’s brow furrowed in uncertainty. She looked like she was right on the edge of figuring out why she’d needed to requisition a new cot last night.

But before Kat could take another haphazard stab at deflecting suspicion, Mira seemed to arrive at an entirely different conclusion, if the diabolical grin she flashed was anything to go by.

Her attention snapped to the healer at Emory’s back.

“Make sure he’s in top shape. Ahead of the briefing tonight, I’d like to put on a demonstration bout for the troops.

One that should put to rest any notions that Katrien needs defending.

Emory, you’ll duel her. Spear to sword.”

Jeers and claps echoed up and down the benches as the decade realized the spectacle they were in for. Kat and Emory locked eyes again.

A slight smile tugged the corner of his lips. She’d be in so much trouble if she mirroredit.

“Put him on his back, Kat,” Mira added before sweeping out of the tent—and thank the hosts for that, because Kat was momentarily gripped by the urge to blurt that she already had.