Page 11 of Crown of Iron (The Crown Trilogy #1)

Six

M ucking horse stalls, gathering chicken eggs, and milking cows—I've spent three days playing Basecamp's newest farmer.

The work is backbreaking, and the smells have me gagging more than once a day.

But despite my less than comfortable condition, I've done every damn thing Kyron has ordered through Greer, Ulric, and Terro in hopes that I can make my move soon.

I turn my filthy face toward the dark gray clouds pouring rain.

My eyes flutter shut, and I spread my arms to the side while holding a bucket filled with spoiling fruits and vegetables.

The rush of water washes away the mud clinging to my cheeks, cooling my heated skin.

It just might be the most enjoyable thing I've experienced since arriving here. It’s a small grace that I’m thankful for.

I'm snatched away from my blissful moment when something rams into the back of my knees.

The pail flies from my hand, and my palms smack to the ground, sliding forward.

My face plants into a thick, smelly pile of mud.

I whimper from the sting in my knees and lift my head.

Slicking back my muddy hair, I watch a plump swine meander to where his friends snort down the slop.

“Impatient assholes!” I growl, spitting mud and limping out of the pen .

“Are you all right?”

I lift my head to find Leif standing under the tin eaves of the feed house.

He holds an umbrella and not a hair is out of place.

Humiliation washes over me. Of course, someone had to bear witness to the pigs getting the better of me.

It feels like every task I've been given is to enhance my chances for embarrassment.

Joining Leif, I drop onto the bench outside the feed house door, and my shoulders slump.

“Where have you been?” I ask.

He sits down next to me and scrunches his nose before scooting away. “They've kept me busy.”

“You mean Kyron has kept you busy.”

I've not seen Leif since the day he left me in the general's office.

From sunup to well past sunset, I'm kept busy with essential tasks that are nothing more than random trials.

I have no doubt I've proved my ability to take orders and follow through. My first day at Basecamp was the one and only time I failed to do what Kyron and his officers demanded of me. It leaves me to question if I’ll ever get the chance to train and get close to the people here.

“My job isn't an easy one, Elle. I'm woken up in the middle of the night, the hours are long, and…” He takes in my scowl and sighs. “Sorry.”

“Everyone has to start at the bottom, right?”

He rubs the back of his neck and examines the tips of his boots. “Yeah.”

I nudge his shoulder with mine, leaving a smudge of dirt on his olive-green coat. “Hey, I'm working my ass off for this. And my siblings seem to be doing a good job of holding off my mother and Micah. I’m honestly surprised that no one has given up my location yet.”

He hums and props his elbows on his brown leather-clad knees and rests his chin on his knuckles. “I can't believe you still want to do this. I mean, look at you.” He sweeps his hand up and down and curls his lip. “And what are you wearing?”

“Other than pig shit? My uniform. They ran out of my size.” A tinge of jealousy courses through me; Leif looks like a force to be reckoned with in his officer’s jacket with brass buttons and his rank pinned to the collar.

How can anyone take me seriously when I'm sleeping with the pigs and don't smell much better ?

Leif gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment before standing. “Go back to your barracks and take a bath, and I'll meet you at the supplies station. We'll find you a fitting uniform.”

“They've not assigned me to a room yet.”

Leif stops and spins on his heels. Bright red crawls up his rain-covered face. “What do you mean you haven't been given a room?”

“I guess there's no space for me. I keep asking and waiting, but I've been sleeping in the stables.”

“Get up and let's go.”

“I'm not done feeding the animals,” I say, pointing behind me to the chicken roost.

“As a superior officer, I'm ordering you to stop what you're doing and come with me.”

“If Kyron gives me shit for this, I'm going to kick your ass.”

Leif grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. “Fuck Kyron.”

“Speaking of our general, why didn’t you tell me he was a Stigian?” I ask, keeping my voice low as I huddle beside him under his umbrella.

We weave through the rain-drenched street, avoiding the growing puddles where possible. “He’s not a Stigian,” Leif answers.

“But his eyes.” It’s the first sign we’re taught to look for as children. If someone has black eyes, then we know we're going to run. Every child in Lucent fears that a Stigian will break through the barrier that protects us and siphon their Statera-given power.

Leif stops walking and faces me. “I know what color his eyes are. Kyron may be an asshole, but trust me when I tell you that he is dedicated to this kingdom. He has been for a very long time.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your father…” He shakes his head. “Your father trusts Kyron. That’s all I needed to know.”

Guilt ties a knot in my gut. It’s that simple. My father trusts Kyron with his army. He left him in charge. Yet I still question his decision.

Our first stop is the supply station where I'm issued five new uniforms, several pairs of undergarments, and a brand-new set of boots.

I follow Leif through the streets, crowded with soldiers, horses, and wagons stacked with boxes of necessities.

We reach one of the many enormous log cabins housing the soldiers, and he yanks open the door.

“Where are we going?” I ask .

He leads me through the communal area. Worn couches, round tables with abandoned card and board games, and a wall of overflowing bookshelves make up the shared space. “To my room so you can clean up,” he says as we climb a rustic staircase.

When we reach the end of the second-floor hallway, Leif opens the door.

Knowing how finicky my best friend is about the cleanliness of his space, I tiptoe through his living area, skirting around the two overstuffed chairs that sit in front of a wood-burning furnace.

I glance through the open door to his bedroom and spot a tidy bed, a chest of drawers, and a nightstand.

Leif opens the washroom, and I almost drop to my knees at the sight of the copper tub.

He pumps the lever on the wall, filling it with water, and leaves me to soak off the grime.

It’s a struggle to peel out of my filthy clothes, but as soon as I do, I place them in the waste bin beside the wash basin.

The moment I sink into the lukewarm water, I release a sigh. My hands move swiftly to scrub away the grime from my skin and hair. Leif’s soap has my eyes fluttering with pure bliss. Eucalyptus and cedar just might be my new favorite scent.

When my skin prunes, I dry off, slip into my new uniform, and enter the living area.

“Come eat,” Leif says, pointing to the small round table in the corner of the room. Two bowls of soup and a loaf of bread sit on top.

I slide into one of the two chairs and shovel the warm vegetables soaking in broth into my mouth.

As gratitude spreads through me, my muscles relax, and I focus on the taste of my hot meal.

I've never gone without, never had ill-fitting clothes or missed a meal because there was no food. The Statera has blessed me in countless ways, and I’ll never take that for granted again.

My spoon hits the bottom of my bowl, and I smile at Leif. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He pushes the rest of his soup toward me. I didn’t even realize he sat down until he’s standing. “I've got something I need to take care of. When you're done, meet me at my office and I'll show you to your quarters.”

I nod and dig into his food.

It's not long before I'm left with another empty bowl and a full stomach.

I slide on the cropped jacket that matches my brown leather pants, stopping to admire the uniform in the mirror next to the door.

My clean hair looks like a cinnamon pastry rolled into a neat bun at my nape.

The freckles that sprinkle across my nose and cheeks are no longer covered under smudges of dirt and my brown eyes dominate my round face.

I pull loose the leather string at the base of my neck, deepening the neckline of my cream tunic, adding a little flare to it.

The military attire is drab and nothing like the fine clothes hanging in my closet at home, but it's better than mud covering me head to toe.

I hold my head high as I make my way down the street.

For the first time since arriving at Basecamp, I feel as if I blend in with the other soldiers.

My new confidence boost even gives me the courage to nod in greeting as I pass others.

When I reach the hub, I yank open the door and march toward the back of the building.

The soldier standing guard at the hallway stretches an arm to stop me, but I walk around him, saying, “Captain Stone is expecting me.”

“But you can't?—”

I dismiss him with a wave and head to Leif's office.

His door is open, and I peek inside. A desk with a map spread out over its surface and four chairs surrounding it sit in the center of the room.

Two bookcases overflow with books about military strategy and past wars.

Not one personal touch is to be seen and neither is Leif.

Stepping out of the office, I meander down the empty corridor.

My hands slide into my pockets, and I keep a mindful eye on my surroundings.

As I grow closer to the end of the hallway, muffled voices catch my attention.

I pause at the double doors of the general's office and contemplate turning around.

“You are overstepping your bounds, Captain,” says a stern but muffled voice.

I lean in and press my ear to the door.

“She was filthy, and her clothes didn't fit. She was covered in pig shit. Did you know she's been sleeping in the stables? Since when is it all right to let someone in your keep sleep in the fucking stables?” Leif bellows.

I should turn around and return to my best friend's office.

Leif will surely give me all the details later, but the crack between the two doors lures me in.

Holding my breath, I peek inside to find Leif standing before the general's desk.

Kyron leans back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him.

The tension in the room is thick, like I should chew the air instead of breathing it in .

The general's dark eyes bore into Leif, and he hisses, “I advise you to stand down.”

“I advise you to take better care of your soldiers, General!”

Kyron slaps his palm to the top of his desk and jumps to his feet.

“Not everyone in this camp has the luxury of sitting behind a desk and contemplating war strategies, Leif. The soldiers who fight alongside me have endured a hell of a lot more in a single hour than she has in three days. If she wants to fight with my regiment, she will earn her place among them or go the fuck home!”

The men remain in a standoff, jaws clenched and bodies rigid. Leif sucks his front teeth and takes a small step back. His submission seems to appease Kyron who eases back into his chair.

“This discussion is over unless you would like orders to go before the king for insubordination,” Kyron coolly says.

“At least get her out of the stables. She doesn't deserve to sleep in there.”

The muscle in Kyron's cheek ticks. “Fine, move her into the room next to Greer's and get the fuck out of my office.”

I push back from the door and tiptoe down the hall. Leaning against the wall next to his office, I examine my nails and pretend I have no clue of what transpired.

Leif charges out of Kyron's office and slams the door behind him. He spares me a glance and breezes past me. I push away from the wall and match his stride.

“Don't pretend like you weren't eavesdropping. It's not in you to keep your nose out of things,” he says.

“What brought that on?” I ask.

“Shitty leadership.”

“I didn't know you had the authority to talk to higher-ranking officers like that.”

“I don't.”

“All the same, you were pretty badass in there,” I say with a weak smile.

He spares me a side-long glance. “We’ll see how I feel after he makes me pay for it during physical training tomorrow morning.”

My gut wrenches at the thought of Leif getting in trouble because of me. The last thing I wanted to do is make his life difficult. This is his second home and I know he enjoys his time here. He's worked hard to get to where he is, and I hate to think I'm setting him back.

“If it’s any consolation, you did get me a room next to Greer's. I'm sure that will be torturous for me.”

His lips quirk to one side, and he shakes his head. “Just be thankful you aren't sleeping with the pigs.”

Statera help me, but I am.