“Sir, but Gil isn’t—” Ronen started. I raised a hand to stop him.
“Gil has proven his trustworthiness. When the three of us are alone, we can dispense with formalities—until you two fail me. Then we’ll have some very formal words, am I understood?”
Gil’s eyes widened, but Ronen only nodded thoughtfully.
“Good,” I said shortly. “Now, I won’t keep you. But I have some simple questions about training and how we’re treating the Flameborne and upcoming Furyknights…”
I explained my concerns in very general terms, and thought I’d done a good job of hiding the source of my unease, but halfway through my ill-prepared speech, Ronen raised a hand to ask me to pause and his lips thinned.
“Sir, if your concern is primarily on the, er, stealth side of training, I’m probably not the best Wing Leader to speak with,” he said pointedly.
Gil watched me carefully.
Dammit. I’d forgotten about Voski. But I couldn’t call him in without raising the interest of the others. “My concerns lay across the board. But if there are other leaders you think should hear them, or be involved with ensuring they’re soothed, then I’ll trust you to speak with them after this.”
Ronen and Gil glanced at each other, then both nodded warily.
“Good,” I said briskly, and was about to continue when Ronen spoke up again.
“Gil, we only have an hour left. Go send the others on their run—but tell Bren to visit the healers. If she’s been injured, she probably won’t tell us. We need to make sure.”
Gil nodded and after hesitating—he’d been about to salute me, then remembered my instruction—he trotted off.
Ronen waited until he’d left the hall before facing me. “Sir, I’d ask your permission to speak frankly, as you’ve assured me I could in the past,” he said.
Uneasy, I had to brace against the instinct to tell him I didn’t want to hear it. That wasn’t fair. I’d always prided myself on my willingness to answer difficult questions.
“Go ahead,” I growled, perhaps more gruffly than needed.
“Frankly,sir,I need to ask you to consider if you would have made this visit this morning if it were amaletrainee being bruised. I think—and please, correct me if I’m wrong—that you’d encourage a man to persevere and toughen up.”
I bristled, despite the fact it was the very thought I’d already had myself this morning. I rubbed my jaw to give me time.
“Sir,” Ronen said, a touch more hesitantly this time. “I know that your circumstances are challenging. We vowed to assist youandBren, and we meant it. But, you’ve always taught us that true leaders ask the hard questions.”
My hackles rose. “What hard question do you have?” I asked.
Ronen cleared his throat and glanced once more at the door before meeting my eyes again. “What the fuck are you doing calling us out of training so you can babysit her?”
Half of me deflated, wanted to sputter and apologize, andblushfor God’s sake. The other half of me wanted to roar at him,who the fuck did he think he was?And perhaps more importantly,who did he thinkIwas?
It took me a moment to take hold of myself and raise my chin, regarding him with caution in my eyes. “She isn’t like the others,” I admitted.
Ronen nodded. “But in this regard, she is,” he said carefully. “She’s a Furyknight. She’ll get hurt—in training, and in practice. Training is for her body to learn, strengthen, and heal so she’slesslikely to be hurt in the field. I’ve never seen you express even the slightest concern for a Furyknight in training before, let alone interrupt a squad session.”
I had to wrestle with that, because he was only speaking my better judgment to me. But the fact remained. “She isn’t likeanyother Furyknight,” I insisted.
Ronen nodded again, and I had the distinct impression I was being treated with care.
I did not care for it.
“We care about her too,” he said quietly. “I told you we’ll take care of her, and I meant it. I’m not beating her up—I’m working her. I’m sure her other training is equally balanced. She needs to be strong enough for this, and the only way to develop strength is through resistance.”
“She’s a woman in a man’s world—” I started.
“And that will never change,” he said firmly.
God, help me, he was right. Frustrated with myself and with the situation, I looked away from him, back towards the door while I tried to take hold of myself.
