“Don’t worry.” Keg nods as he straightens the brown leather strap crisscrossing down his chest. “I hear those Premiers know what they’re doing.” He juts a thumb in the direction of the castle. “They’re storing extras for that reason, in case the nearby cities need to take refuge here.”
“Your parents have been working even harder than I have.”
“They love this kingdom. They’re not going to let anything happen to it on their watch.”
“Isalee certainly wouldn’t stand for it,” I say wryly.
He grins. “Nope. Fae would shake in their boots if they had to face her.”
“She can be formidable.”
“I’ve never won an argument against her. Stopped trying when I was about five years old.”
I smirk. “Smart.”
He taps his head. “Runs in the family,” he replies before offering a salute. “I’ll get started on inventory so you have clear numbers.”
“Thank you, Keg.”
He walks off just as the soldiers start dispersing from the training yard. My lieutenant gives me a nod, letting me know he’s ready for our meeting, and we both move in the direction of my office building.
As soon as we’re walking side by side, he starts in. “Morale is up. Though I won’t lie to you, half the soldiers don’t believe the fae are invading, and the other half have become consumed with a rumor that our previous Commander Rip was a fae in disguise and that he’s led the army here to take us over.”
Well. That’s not fucking good.
I shoot the lieutenant a look. “Where did these rumors come from?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
As we continue making our way through the barracks, I note the hesitation on his face. “Just say it, Lieutenant.”
He’s a dry man with thirty years of combat experience. Not once have I ever seen him crack his stoic expression with so much as a sneeze. He’s always been solid, serious, and straightforward. Very good things to have in the higher ranks. So to see him hesitate is slightly unsettling.
“Some of the rumors also say that it’s actually our king who’s fae, and that’s why he’s left.”
My movements halt and he matches my stance immediately as we turn toward one another. “King Ravinger left because he’s leading the Elite to help prepare Ranhold for attack.”
He nods sharply. “Of course, sir. I’m just reporting what’s being said.”
I swallow back more words that would only sound defensive and nod instead. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I expect you’re helping to quash those rumors when they’ve cropped up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
We reach my building, and I walk up the steps to enter when someone rushes over, all lanky limbs and hurried feet. “Twig,” I say, nodding at the boy.
He gives a hurried salute. “Permission to interrupt, sir?”
The corner of my mouth twitches. Twig does runs all day long, helping out wherever it’s needed. He has a whole barracks full of soldiers who treat him like their little brother, and already, he’s gotten leagues better at his self-defense training.
“Permission granted, Twig. What do you need?”
His stance relaxes slightly. “Thank you, Commander. I was told you’re needed up at Brackhill Castle, sir. You’ve received a missive.”
My heart thumps.
Finally.
