Vaneshta looked over; a bored look on her face. “Oh, look. She’s back.”
Iryana wanted to turn around and leave. Avoid the awkwardness and hope she could find someone else to room with instead. But that wasn’t an option, and Vaneshta being mad at her wouldn’t help. She didn’twantVaneshta to be mad at her, to blame her like she blamed herself.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she burst out. “The major—I mean the general—said I couldn’t tell anyone. And I don’t think Karvek is someone I can disobey.”
Sharp eyes pierced her and held her there for an excruciating amount of time. “Has he accepted you into the 18th yet? For yourservice?”
Iryana looked at her feet, stomach dropping beneath the floor. “Uh, no. Not yet.”
“Whatever. You’re still on the team. And I need us to work together.”
Iryana nodded quickly. “Me too.”
“Besides, at least one good thing came out of this. A less psychopathic captain.”
Iryana frowned. “Who is it?”
Vaneshta glared at her like there was something wrong with her. “Pyetar, obviously. Weren’t you there when he was belted as Darish’s replacement?”
Great.
“Well, yeah. I just didn’t realize that meant he’d beourcaptain…”
“I don’t know what your problem is with him.” Vaneshta sank onto her bed, dangling her feet off the edge. “He may be a dick, but he’ll keep those he’s in charge of alive. Can’t be mad about that.”
She wanted to argue, but Iryana remembered the way Pyetar had taken charge when they’d been repairing defenses outside the wall and the dakii attacked.
“Perhaps there could be worse choices,” Iryana admitted generously.
Vaneshta rolled her eyes, but a slight smile tipped her lips. “Don’t be so overcome.”
“I’ll try.” Iryana stepped a little further into the room, shuffling awkwardly.
“So now that your super secret mission for our great and glorious general is finished… are you done sneaking around?”
“I hope so.” Gods, she really hoped so. At least on Karvek’s behalf.
“Good, because I’m not above kicking your ass to get you in line.” Vaneshta pointed at her. “I mean it.”
“Yes, Sena.”
Iryana stirred her bowl of stew absently, scanning the room carefully.
She had never been the biggest fan of the food they offered in the hall; it couldn’t compare to what the best cooks in her clan could make. But since they had returned a week ago, the number of soldiers at Myura River had swelled. Despite the access to fresh fish, meat, eggs, berries, and other foods that came with the onset of summer, the kitchen seemed unprepared to feed so many.
The fort got more crowded every day. The newcomers weren’t recruits, but experienced soldiers. Some came from other regiments within the 18th, but she’d heard some came from outside that. Soldiers switching allegiance.
The shadows in the fort had always held a bit of depravity, but now it wasn’t relegated to the dark corners. What happened in the shadows now—well, Iryana kept her head down and ate quickly, trying not to look. Agitated soldiers with glazed eyes and rosy cheeks were in trances from eating expensive mushrooms. Lower-ranked soldiers pushed away from their tables as others claimed their seats. Bloody fists and dripping noses. Slapping flesh and frenzied moans. New addicts of the Beast’s Poppy hovering with their toes barely touching the ground.
Even Darish had been bolder, more cruel with his new power. Iryana had even seen him pushing his sister, Lidishta, around. Some of the new teams were wild, not following protocols as closely as they should have, leading to two soldiers coming back dead in the last week alone.
She had asked Karvek about it—why he allowed the soldiers’ behavior when he was otherwise so strict. He’d explained that he could only ask so much of his soldiers, and he needed them to fight for him. What they did to blow off steam didn’t matter. She had thought him a bit more controlling than that, but figured the soldiers’ behavior appealed to the darker parts of Karvek that seemed to light up around violence and passion.
It felt hypocritical to be too judgmental of Karvek’s darkness when he was so accepting of hers.
She reached into her pocket, the folded scrap of paper crumpling further between her stiff fingers.
Hadima had managed to get a message to her through the post’s liaison, apparently having both bribed and blackmailed him. The wording was vague, hard to pinpoint who it was from or to, but it was obvious enough to Iryana whatshe meant. But Hadima hadn’t requested another meeting now that they could pass messages, which Iryana was both relieved and disappointed by. Unless one of them had something big to discuss, something they couldn’t write, she wouldn’t see her sister.
