When he did not speak, she went on. ‘I’m not allowed to seek new experiences of any kind or step outside of what’s comfortable for everyone else, is that right? To seek some purpose in this miserable life is selfish. Noted.’
Roul lowered his brows. ‘You have the shop and the almshouse. Is that work not purposeful enough for you?’ He shifted his feet. ‘And you know what? You can always choose your own husband if you’re unhappy with his choice. I imagine your uncle will agree to any match at this point.’
‘Well, that’s rude.’
‘Or if being someone’s wife is so below you, why not tell your uncle you’re committed to keeping your mother company through her later years in place of marriage?’
Eda pressed her teeth together. ‘So many inviting options.’
He rubbed his face tiredly. ‘Forgive me for trying to prevent you from scaling the wall or stowing away on a ship thinking there’s something out there that you’re missing.’
Of course Roul knew what was out there. He had been born and raised in Carmarthenshire, a region that had been abandoned by King Edward when it was taken over by rebel groups. While the English king maintained control of the north, everything between River Wnion, the Welsh Marches, and Chadora was now referred to as the Carmarthenshire wastelands.
Roul had fled. He had boarded a ship along the coast and arrived at Chadora’s port, where he had caught the interest of the warden. That was all she knew of his past, small snippets, mostly from other people. Whenever she asked Roul questions directly, he immediately grew uncomfortable. She would be met with vague responses or a change in subject. When she had asked Harlan about him during training once, he had said that sometimes people prefered to keep their pasts buried.
Roul was waiting for her to respond. She dropped his boots on the ground and took the fish from him. ‘I should get these cleaned up for dinner.’ Then she walked off before he could reply.
‘Wait.’ He picked up his boots and followed her. ‘I’ll help you.’
‘It’s all right,’ she said without looking back. ‘You’ve helped enough for one day.’
CHAPTER2
‘Again,’ Roul called to the recruit who had turned to empty his stomach.
The young defender wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’ Turning to face his opponent, the pair resumed the drill.
Harlan appeared next to Roul in the training yard, crossing his arms and watching the recruits for a minute before speaking. ‘They’ve improved in the last week.’
‘Until you give them a shield. Then you need to be ready to duck.’
Harlan chuckled. ‘Better finish up soon or they won’t be able to hold a sword tomorrow.’
Roul nodded. ‘Watch your feet, Alveye! You’re retreating!’
Harlan turned to him. ‘I came to warn you that the warden’s on his way. He wants to speak with you.’
Roul looked in the direction of the barracks, and sure enough, Shapur Wright was striding towards them. ‘Great. Do you know what he wants?’
‘Yes.’
Roul waited for him to elaborate, but Harlan said nothing further. Shaking his head, Roul shouted at the recruits. ‘All right. You’re done. Walk it off, then pack it up.’ He turned and stood to attention as the warden approached. ‘Sir.’
Shapur came to a stop in front of him, his sharp eyes going to the recruits who were now cooling off. ‘How are they coming along?’
‘Better in their second week.’
‘Good.’ The warden turned his scowling face to Roul. ‘I came to tell you that you are now in command of the recruits.’
Roul blinked. ‘You’re making me a commander?’
‘I have been watching you closely over the previous year,’ Shapur said. ‘You are ready for the responsibility.’
Roul looked to Harlan, whose face held pride. He knew Shapur would have discussed it with him before making the decision. ‘What of Commander Wright?’
‘I’ll be around,’ Harlan said, clapping him on the back. ‘No need to fret.’
‘Commander Wright will still be involved,’ Shapur said, ‘but his main focus will be on the outer-wall. We need more eyes looking outwards now.’
