You never notice what’s keeping you balanced until you realize you’re not standing straight anymore.
I took my ribbons for granted. For years, I hated them, hid them, tried to pretend that they weren’t a part of me. It wasn’t until I was with Fourth’s army that I even let them truly breathe—letmyselfbreathe. It was just one inhale, but it led to a cacophony of gulping air.
I wonder if this is what it feels like for a bird whose wings have been clipped.
I didn’t comprehend until they were gone just how important they were to me. They were an extension of myself, they were my heart on my sleeve. And now, they’ve been torn away. I’m already trying to cope through my loss, but Ineveranticipated this other aspect to it.
It’s not just my balance that I lost.
“I let him make me into this, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late,” I say as fury fills my eyes, red-hot heat raining down my cheek like acid. The ribbon in my pocket feels like it’s taken on the weight of a brick. “How am I supposed to train to become strong if I can’t even stand?”
Slade’s fists tighten at his sides, as if he’s envisioning wringing Midas’s throat. “You’ve had your ribbons for a decade, Auren. It makes sense that you need to adjust to being without them.”
I glare at him. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t placate me. Don’t stand there all confident and encouraging.”
“Would you rather I be doubtful and disparaging?”
Anger rises like a tide, but I push past it and start to walk away. I only make it a couple of steps before Judd appears in front of me. “You think you’re quitting, Gildy?”
“I’m not quitting,” I hiss through my teeth. “I’m just taking a break before I try to punch your kingly army commander.”
He snorts. “As much as I’d like to see that, Hojat gave me strict orders that you’re not to be hitting anything yet, so we’ll save that for another day. In the meantime, you told me you wanted to train, so I’m training you. I’m afraid you’re stuck in the Teeth until I say so.”
“Youjustasked me if I wanted to stop.”
“Yeah, and you said no.”
A frustrated sigh clatters past my lips. “I can’t even turn around without losing my balance, Judd. How are you going to train me?”
He sweeps an assessing gaze over me. “Well, if you’d have just told me what was going on, I would’ve been able to account for it and rethink my strategy,” he says. “Now that I know you’re having to adjust to the loss of your ribbons, we’ll start out our training a different way.”
“You think that will help?” I ask dubiously.
“Gildy, don’t wound my pride,” he tells me, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m an excellent trainer.”
“Who told you that?”
He frowns. “I’m sure someone’s said it.”
I find myself letting out a bemused laugh. With just a few words, my anger has been replaced with frustration.
“Why didn’t you just say so?” Judd asks me, not with judgment, but curiosity.
My shoulder lifts. “You’re not supposed to admit weakness, right? Even I know that.”
“That’s not a weakness, Gildy,” he says with a shake of his head. “And don’t lie to your trainer. When I ask you what’s wrong, I expect you to tell me the truth.”
I glance over my shoulder, expecting Slade to still be standing there, but he’s now next to the wooden crates off to the side, hip perched against one as he watches us. Just having him in here observing is making my chest tight with tension. He was so proud when I told him I wanted to train. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me flounder.
“Alright, sit your ass down.”
My head snaps back to Judd. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says before plopping down on the ground in front of me.
