Chapter 31 Ayden
“It has been three days since the storm, and Declan had not spoken a word about those moments on the cobbles, those moments when we’d been so close to . . . so close to becoming more than fellow cadets and friends.”
I drained the last of my tea and stared at the flakes that remained in the bottom of my mug.
“Shira, I saw it in his eyes. I felt it in my heart. Hell, he was lying on top of me with his lips a hair’s width from mine.”
I knew I shouldn’t be talking with Declan’s best friend about my feelings.
I knew it was a mistake to tell her about that night and what I thought it meant, what I hoped it might mean.
I knew better.
And yet, as popular as a lord’s purse might be, I felt alone within the walls of the Rangers’ Compound. I had plenty of companions willing to gamble with my fortune, but no true friends who might listen and understand.
As much as I admired Declan for his social skills, his ability to make people laugh and endear them to him, I also envied those skills.
It wasn’t that I lacked the good graces to win friends.
I didn’t mistreat others or talk down; at least, I didn’t mean to.
I couldn’t help it if my highly educated use of the language came across as better-than to folks raised in more rural parts of the Empire.
Still, I longed for simple friendships like the one Declan had with Shira. And since this was about Declan . . .
She rested a palm on my forearm, drawing my eyes to hers.
“Ayden, you need to tell him how you feel.”
I nearly tumbled off the bench. “And risk him laughing at me—or worse? I don’t even know for sure he’s interested in, well, boys.”
She snickered.
“What? Don’t you laugh at me—”
She held up a hand. “I’m laughing because, first of all, you were practically swapping spit with him in the alleyway. That might be considered a clue as to his intentions. Second, and possibly even funnier from my perspective, we’re sitting in the middle of the Rangers’ headquarters,
the center of masculinity and strength in the known world, and you talk like you two are seven-year-old boys debating if girls eat boogers or have some mystery pox.”
I threw my head into my folded arms. “I don’t know what to call any of this.”
“Head up. I don’t speak garble.”
I lifted my head. “Sorry. I’m just new to all this.”
Shira’s brow shot up.
“Okay, I’m not new to all of this. I bedded my share back home. Okay, not my share, but some. A few.”
Her gaze was unflinching. “Fine, more than a few.”
I glared at her annoying smirk. “There were always nobles or other students or even the occasional stable hand who wanted to lend a hand, if you know what I mean. Come to think of it, I tried to bed every boy I could find, but I never had feelings for any of them.
I never thought about any of them when they weren’t around or dreamed about holding them all night or, fuck, just being near them. I can’t get Declan out of my head. He’s everywhere—at least, I look for him everywhere. That’s the same thing, isn’t it? Why do feelings make all this so much more—”
“Complicated?”
“Yes. That’s exactly it. Complicated. Why can’t this just be simple? Pinning a stable boy with thick arms and an even thicker cock against the wall of a barn is simple. There’s no messiness involved. I mean, there is, but that’s different.”
Shira scrunched her nose. “Too much, Ayden. Way too much.”
I grinned. “Really, it wasn’t too much. If you could’ve seen him. He had an ass that—”
She squeezed her eyes shut and raised a palm.
“Fine. No more about stable sex.” I chuckled. “What am I going to do, Shira? Why can’t this be simple?”
She shrugged. “It can . . . if you just talk to him.”
“What if—”
“I am not your priest. You asked my opinion. I gave it. Now, do whatever you will, but get on with it. Graduation is in two days, and I don’t want either of you moping around like lost puppies when they drape the Green over our shoulders. Got it?”
I ducked my head beneath her withering gaze. “Yeah, I get it.”
She pushed back from the table. “I have crossing duty today. Shoot me now. You two have fun up there in the mountains, all alone, with no one but the trees to see or hear anything if you get—”
“I get it,” I nearly shouted, turning heads at nearby tables. I lowered my voice. “Thanks, Shira. Sorry to put you in the middle.”
She laughed. “I’m definitely not getting in the middle of you two. Neither of you have the tits for what I like, no offense.”
I cupped my chest with both hands, lifting. “You don’t think these are pretty enough for you?”
She snorted, “They’re pretty all right. They’re just not big enough. I like ’em milk-ready, if you get my meaning.”
I groaned. “I’m going back to moping. Please, Spirits, take that mental image out of my head.”
Shira chuckled all the way out the dining hall door.
Declan and I met at the quartermaster’s station, a log cabin twice the size of most homes in Grove’s Pass, situated roughly a hundred paces from the main headquarters building.
Supply carts came and went so frequently that a Captain some hundred years ago had removed the quartermaster’s section from the main building to keep the traffic clear.
It was one of only a handful of functions not housed in the main compound.
Declan was already sifting through his pack when I arrived.
“Did somebody sleep in this morning?” Declan teased in greeting.
I shook my head, failing to return Declan’s easy smile. “Ran into Shira at breakfast.”
Declan’s brows rose. “Oh?”
I shrugged. “She’s funny. Told me—well, us—to have a good patrol.”
Declan stared a moment, then went back to checking his pack. “I checked out your gear already. You’ll still want to go through it. Last week they left a canteen and flint out of one guy’s bag. Screwed up his whole patrol.” He pointed a few paces away. “It’s over there.”
I followed Declan’s finger, finding a backpack with a bedroll neatly tied to the bottom leaning against the side of the building. I stepped around Declan, unstrapped the bag, and began reviewing its contents, peeking up every so often.
Declan caught me looking a couple of times but didn’t say anything.
“Overnight?” I gulped.
Declan nodded. “Yeah, unless we find something worth reporting. Orders are to return tomorrow at noon. Another team will head up then.”
“They’re keeping a lot of patrols up there these days. Is that normal?”
Declan shrugged. “Don’t think so, especially with winter coming. The snow usually handles most of our winter patrols for us.”
I slung the pack over my shoulder and wriggled the straps into place. “What do you think’s going on? Have you heard anything?”
“Not a word.” Declan rose and hefted his pack. I hurried behind him and held it so he could slide his arms through the straps. “Thanks.”
We made our way to the edge of town, and Declan checked his map and compass. “Looks like about a two-hour hike to our route. Not too bad.”
I peered over his shoulder, close enough to nibble his ear if . . .
“Isn’t that near where that buck was?”
Declan nodded. “Same general area, yeah. Would be amazing to see him again. He was a beauty.”
I held my tongue, thinking more about the whole bowing down before Declan thing than any aesthetic nature the beast might possess. If Declan wanted to focus on the deer’s rack and ignore the odd deference the buck paid him, who was I to argue?
The climb was steeper than I remembered.
The trees were now barren, and leaves littering the forest floor made the trek treacherous.
Hidden logs and fallen limbs lay everywhere, waiting to twist an ankle or send a Ranger tumbling back down the mountainside.
Declan led us, prodding the ground ahead of each step with a long walking stick, a process that kept us both focused and quiet, nearly doubling the time it took to reach our destination.
“Are you ready for graduation?” I asked as Declan dropped his pack in the clearing we’d chosen for our campsite. The spot sat at roughly the center of our patrol zone, making it easy to work rounds without facing an eternal return trek for rest.
“As ready as anyone is to wear the Green for the first time.” Declan glanced up. “You?”
“They will wrap us in that cloak in two days. Two. Can you believe it? After all this time, we are so close.” I leaned against a tree. “I think I am ready. It’s funny, though.”
“What?”
“To hear the cadets talk, so many of the other Second Years are beating their chests, like they have already won some prize.”
“Haven’t they? How many usually make it? Half?”
“That may be, but still . . .” I brushed hair from my forehead. “As much as we have trained, I cannot help feeling we have so much more to learn. Think about it. When we were working the border crossing, those Rangers looked at us like we were clueless.”
Declan snorted. “You were clueless. I was masterful.”
“Right. Mister ‘I feel something’ despite the empty cart.”
Declan winced.
“Forgive me, Dec,” I said. “That was unfair.”
Declan looked up, something foreign in his eyes.
“What is it? I did not mean anything—”
“You called me Dec.”
I nodded. “It just slipped out. If you dislike it—”
“No, it’s fine,” Declan said. “It’s just . . . that’s what Keelan always called me, ever since we were little. He’s the only person in the world who calls me that.”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“I will refrain—”
“No.” Declan stood and took several steps toward me, and I felt my stomach twist. “Please. I think . . . I think I like you calling me that.”
My mouth opened, but I couldn’t find words. Declan was almost within reach, almost close enough to touch, and there was such sincerity in his eyes. Sunlight filtering through the trees fell across his shoulders and lit his hair.
“Declan . . . Dec, I need to tell you something.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes drinking me in, consuming me.
My throat went dry.
“Me too, but you go first,” he said.
I blinked. “I have tried to say this for some time now but could not find the words. I mean, every time we were alone and I tried, something happened or someone interrupted us.”
“Just say it,” Declan urged. “You can tell me anything. I hope you know that by now.”
My heart raced. “I do.”
Spirits, give me courage. I have to get this right. I want him to be—
A twig snapped beyond the clearing.
Both our heads turned.
Declan raised a fist, holding us in place as we listened.
Another snap.
Declan motioned for me to move to the south of the clearing as he worked north as quietly as the forest floor allowed.
I removed the bow still strapped to my back and nocked an arrow.
Declan motioned for us to move forward into the trees. His head swiveled, scanning the area before him.
I mirrored him.
Leaves crunched and twigs snapped as something—or someone—suddenly raced away.
Declan bolted forward.
I followed, maintaining my position well south of Declan’s line.
After a dozen tense moments of searching, we returned to our campsite.
“Did you see them?” Declan asked.
I shook my head.
“Let’s see if we can find where they were hiding.” Declan stepped through the brush in the direction the sounds had come from, careful to watch for tracks or other signs. A moment later, he kneeled by a depression in the leaves.
“This looks like where they were lying.”
I nodded and kneeled, scanning the forest floor. I brushed back leaves at the base of a fern and pointed. “What’s that?”
Declan stepped carefully around the impression, then lifted a flask. The dull tin barely glinted as Declan held it beneath rays of sunlight.
“Check out that symbol.” He held the flask up for me to see.
“Mountains on a shield. That is Kingdom Army issue.”
Declan nodded. “What’s a Kingdom scout doing up here? We’re nowhere near the border.”
“Good question,” I said before letting out a frustrated sigh. “So much for a peaceful night on the mountain. We need to head back. Command will want to know about this right away.”
“Guess we just found out why there are so many patrols these days.” Declan rose and brushed off his pants. “Let’s grab our gear.”