Only nobles or important families tended to have surnames.

  Lieutenant Sperry was not from a particularly noteworthy line. Only one member of her family on the paternal side was important, her father. Her mother’s side—the surname she was actually going by in the Army—was a relatively obscure noble house that no one in the squad would plausibly have ever heard of. “Sperry” could have been her first name, as “Volusia” was the Commander’s first and only name, and as Tybalt likewise didn’t have a surname.

  But unlike the Commander, she had obviously not received her officer’s rank via battlefield promotion. Nobility was disproportionately represented in the officer caste. Perhaps that gave it away.

  “Maybe it’s not obvious to the other people in the squad,” Tybalt said in a gentle tone. “I have started to know you a bit better than some of the others, though. And the Commander wouldn’t have tried so hard to shelter anyone common. That was what I figured.”

  There was a long moment of quiet while she considered whether to tell Tybalt something about her that no one in the squad other than the Commander knew. She finally decided that he had earned it—had earned her trust, and perhaps some of her loyalty.

  “Mariella,” she said finally, quietly. “My parents named me Mariella.”

  “Mariella,” he repeated. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  She gave him a small smile. She knew there must be a hint of pink showing on her cheeks.

  Then the silence resumed. For several minutes, she was just focused on bandaging his injuries. Hopefully that would prevent infection.

  But without any chatter, she found herself getting distracted. She felt a slight sense of the inappropriate being so close to him. She could smell him—a musky, warm, slightly spicy odor that was more pleasant than it should have been, despite what was probably a few days without bathing. And bandaging his maimed fingers, they were almost holding hands.

  Mariella swallowed and pushed those feelings aside. He was just a wounded soldier, and she was providing treatment. She avoided looking down at the only area of his body that had remained covered by cloth this whole time. If she saw that he was aroused by their close contact, she wouldn’t be able to continue this with a straight face. That would be a disservice to both of them.

  The quiet lasted until Mariella was tying the last knot in the bandages around Tybalt’s fingers.

  In a whisper, she finally said, “I want to report this. All of this. Once we’re back to civilization. Safe from this. I need you with me when I do it. This isn’t how we’re supposed to deal with the beastfolk—or how the squad is supposed to discipline troops. None of this is right.” Her voice grew smaller still. “What the Commander has been ordering—it’s a crime. Command can’t ignore this.”

  “I know that it’s wrong,” Tybalt said quietly. “But if you think they can’t ignore it…” He shook his head and looked at her with an expression of pity. Like he saw the most naive girl in the world before him.

  You’re only a couple of years older than me at most, she thought. Don’t look at me like you’ve seen it all. You’re not allowed to be this cynical so early in life. She wanted to say all of that, except that Tybalt had the lumps that gave him the right to look at her that way—to hold that point of view.

  “No, listen, they—someone will care. A general. A marshal. I’ll find a way to get in front of the King himself if I have to. If these people hear what we know, if they see what we’ve seen—”

  “They won’t care,” Tybalt said quietly, shaking his head. “Not that the King runs things anyway. You’d want to talk to the Grand Duke.”

  Mariella had heard that rumor herself—that the King did not run things in the Kingdom—but Tybalt spoke of it with such certainty that she realized it must be true. It was another thing that she had been naive about. Her father ran in those elite circles by reason of his own merit, but she had never been curious enough about the power dynamics to hear more than his general impressions of people. She could not make herself believe that the other nobles would have gathered behind the Grand Duke, who had an unsavory reputation. But if it was true…

  “Then I will talk to the Grand Duke,” Mariella found herself saying.

  Tybalt’s hands suddenly squeezed hers with surprising force despite his injuries. She realized she had been holding his hands for much longer than she had intended to, despite the bandages all being properly fixed in place.

  “Don’t do that,” he hissed.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I have to,” she insisted in an intense whisper. “Let go of me!”

  He released her instantly, looking at his bandaged fingers as if he hadn’t realized what they were doing. Perhaps he hadn’t.

  Mariella rose to leave, but Tybalt had perked his ears up.

  “Wait,” he said quietly. “Someone’s coming.”

  She crouched low, beside him—and then suddenly, without warning, he grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her backward, throwing her onto his bedroll. She wouldn’t have fallen if not for having been off balance—she was much stronger than Tybalt—and she felt a flash of irritation. She started to sit up and opened her mouth to ask what he thought he was doing. Then his cover landed over the top of her head, and she thought she understood. He was trying to hide her. She lay as flat as she could, hoping the shadows would conceal her from anyone actually approaching.

  This had better not be a prank or something. She could easily imagine any squad member trying to brag about her being in their bed. Sometimes it was a nuisance being the only woman.

  “Sergeant,” Tybalt said quietly. “My hutmate is still asleep. Can this wait?”

  “There’s not much I have to say, Tybalt,” replied Sergeant Remus. His voice sounded like it was just outside the hut. “Don’t get up, save your strength. I wanted to let you know, I asked the Commander’s permission for you to take a full health elixir before we go out to fight the beastfolk.” There was a pause, and then Mariella heard him speak with a note of shame in his voice. “He said no. You should carry one on you in case you’re actually involved in close combat, but otherwise, no. So…”

  “I understand,” Tybalt said. “Walk around limping, so everyone can see.”

  “It’s fucked up, but you brought it on yourself, you know?” Remus said. He sounded guilty.

  “I get it.” The words were flat. Mariella could imagine Tybalt glaring out coldly at Remus.

  “I’m sorry,” Remus said. “For whatever it’s worth.”

  “Thank you,” Tybalt said, his voice slightly less frosty.

  “Rest for the day, at least,” Remus said. “Commander’s ordering the handier members of the squad to fortify the village today, and the same boys who scouted the mountain yesterday are going to look around a bit more with a few other guys, just for strength in numbers. Another of our men died last night. Complications from a head injury the beastfolk inflicted with those slings. The Commander is taking this very seriously, so you’ll hopefully be forgotten. Just stay out of his way, out of sight.”

  “Thank you,” Tybalt said with much more feeling. “That’s horrible, but the way the Commander is taking it is the best news I’ve had in a few days at least.”

  Remus didn’t respond, at least not with words. There was a silence that lasted for a couple of minutes before the covers were pulled off of Mariella’s head. Tybalt loomed over her.

  “Coast is clear,” he said. “You really shouldn’t have been here at all, but thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Mariella said automatically—then blushed slightly. That wasn’t quite what she had intended to say. At least, it sounded wrong. But the shadows concealed her reddened cheeks and neck, and Tybalt didn’t seem to notice.

  “If I could do you one favor, I would tell you not to go up the chain of command with what I told you,” he said. “If they did this to me, they might do worse to someone who’s actually a threat. Volusia tried to keep you far away from everything for a reason. Maybe it was just to shelter you. But maybe it was because he considers you a legitimate threat for whatever reason. Your noble background, or any connections you might have. Don’t assume anyone isn’t in on it. Don’t do anything reckless.”

  That was why he had that reaction. He’s trying to protect me…?

  “I can’t be a part of what the squad is doing,” Mariella objected. “I have to tell someone. There has to be a way—”

  “Don’t assume the system can be saved from within,” Tybalt interjected. “People are benefiting from the way things are now. The Commander isn’t the only one. The people above and below him all like things as they are. You can either join them, leave, or try to burn it down. Pick one.”

  Mariella shook her head, but there was no conviction in the gesture.

  “What would you have me do?” she asked. “You said you were going to leave. It’s not so easy for me to turn a blind eye.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized she was functionally accusing him of not standing by his convictions, which was unfair, considering what had just happened to him. But Tybalt didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care what she thought.

  “If you want to do something that matters, the first thing you need to do is to stop pretending this institution can be fixed the way it is now. You can’t help them. But you could help me.”

  Mariella and Tybalt’s eyes met for a long, intense moment, before she looked away.

  That sounds vaguely like treason or mutiny, she thought uncomfortably. Mariella couldn’t decide for certain whether Tybalt was talking about revenge on the Commander, fighting the squad somehow, warning the beastfolk, or something else. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Or is he really already up to something? Something I don’t understand…? He couldn’t be working with the beastfolk… Could he? With everything she had learned, Mariella wasn’t even certain if she would consider that wrong. The beastfolk needed to be removed from the King’s land, certainly. If the Army could not control something like that, the King wasn’t truly sovereign. But every enlightened creature had a right to defend itself from wanton violence. Whatever he’s up to, am I ready to throw everything away to do it with him?

  She looked back up and saw he was staring down at her, waiting for an answer of some sort.

  “You should rest,” Mariella said, deflecting—choosing not to answer him. She rose and, feeling like a bit of a coward, she stepped past him, out of the hut, into the twilight.

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