“Remember when you told me to whistle if I needed you?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, that was a shit suggestion, Captain, because no one could hear a damn whistle in this storm.”
My eyes scan the surroundings, but tents and people are so jam-packed in the narrow mountain pass that if there is a problem, I can’t see it. “What’s the issue?”
“You’d better come see for yourself.”
Great.
I follow his zigzagging path as we trundle through the thick snow in the camp. We stop at his cooking fire, where a line of soldiers are serving themselves from a massive pot hanging on iron spokes over the flames.
“Did you drag me over here just to make sure I eat?” I ask.
Keg snorts. “No, but I am going to make sure you get a bowl, you know that.”
To demonstrate, he shoves past the line and scoops the thick stew into two tin bowls and hands them both to me.
I cock a brow. “Two?”
“You’ll see,” he says cryptically before he waves me forward.
With a sigh, I follow him, but the boiling hot broth keeps spilling on my damn fingers, burning right through my gloves and making me hiss. “Did you have to fill these so fucking full?” I grumble.
“You should practice your lightness of foot,” he calls back cheerfully. “That stew’s the best dinner in the camp. Those other army cooks are jealous as hell, as usual.”
With a laugh that comes out as a grunt, I keep walking until he stops in front of a tent. He holds the flap open expectantly, and I cock my head, stopping just in front of it. “If this is your way of propositioning me, you’re shit at it.”
Keg lets his head fall back as he laughs loudly. “Captain, you wound me. I’m romantic as fuck. If I was propositioning you, I’d knock your Divine-damned socks off.”
“Just so you know, my socks smell like shit.”
He jerks his head at the tent. “Get in there, you’re causing a draft, and the stew’s gonna get cold.”
Rolling my eyes, I duck inside. As soon as I’m in, he lets the flap fall closed with a “have fun” tossed with the wind as he walks away.
Frowning, I straighten up, and then my eyes adjust to the darker lighting and the warmer air, and my gaze immediately zeroes in on the woman wearing some fancy ass dress that has no business being worn out here in these conditions. The little coat she has on isn’t doing shit either.
The blonde stands up to face me, crossing her arms in front of her indignantly. “And just who are you?” she demands.
I blink at her, then at the second woman who’s lying on the pallet next to her, white as a sheet as she sleeps.
“I’m captain of the whole damn army right now. Who the fuck are you?” I counter, though she looks familiar.
Her lush lips press together in a thin line. “I’m Rissa. When I was leaving Ranhold, I ran into someone named Lu. She told me if I went to the army, you would take me with you out of Fifth Kingdom. She said Auren had talked to you all about it—that I could come with you.”
My thoughts snap back to that night when Auren told us about Rissa. About how the bitch was basically blackmailing her. I suggested we kill her.
I suggest killing a lot.
“Yeah, she did. Gildy is way too fucking nice,” I grumble under my breath.
“Excuse me?” she says in her uppity voice.
“You heard me,” I retort, looking at her with disgust. “You threatened her, made her give you shit in return for your silence, and still, all she wanted to do was help you. I said we should just kill you. Because if there’s one thing I hate, it’s disloyalty.”
A flash of outrage flares through her blue eyes. “Disloyalty?” She eats up the space between us, shocking the hell out of me when she pokes a manicured finger into my chest. “You listen here, you savage hairy giant. I’m a sex worker and a woman. You think I have the privilege of living my life on some moral high ground?” she spits out. “Well, let me tell you, I don’t. Saddles give the world the pleasure it wants, and what do we get in return? We’re controlled and judged, and that’s just best-case scenario. So you can hate me all you want, want to kill me even, but I do what I have to in order to survive in this world, and if that means I use information to my advantage, then I’m going to do it.”
She’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling, pink dots cropped up on her cheeks, and for some reason, my wall of irritation suddenly cracks, and out leaks the realization that she’s really fucking beautiful.