“Just until I make a commander’s rank. If I don’t fight, I have no other way to get promoted.”
That didn’t make sense to her. “You’re Zoftiq champion of both leagues. Why aren’t you a commander?”
“I’m the bastard son of a disowned male, Felicia,” he repeated. “ -12-6. A slave or criminal has more standing than I do. Even in the military.”
In that moment, her heart broke for him. He was right, and it wasn’t fair. Any Vested Andarion would be adjutant to the prime commander of their military if they’d achieved so much, especially at his age. They’d have their pick of posts and ranks.
Yet he was merely a major. Not even one with a command position.
In that moment, she, a diehard pacifist, wanted to beat someone.
“Why has no one in your father’s family adopted you?” That was normally what the family did to protect the children of sons who, for whatever crime, had been cast out of their lineages. Almost always, the grandmother, great-grandmother, or a sister stepped in and reclaimed the innocent children. “Do they not know about you?”
There was no missing the anguish her question caused him. “They know. They just don’t care.”
The waiter returned with their food. Felicia had to force herself not to curl her lip at what Talyn was forced to eat. Water, and a giant portion of plain white meat, brown rice, cut-up raw fruit, and three hard-boiled eggs. They weren’t even salted.
“Is that really what you’re eating?”
He nodded. “I have a very restricted diet whenever I’m in training.”
“Out of curiosity, champ, when aren’t you training?”
He snorted before he spoke again. “I have a very restricted diet, all the time.”
She shook her head. “When was the last time you had cake?”
“My tenth birthday.”
“Is that a joke?”
“I don’t think so.”
Feeling guilty, she sampled her delicious-looking food. Which was quite tasty. “So what exactly is your daily schedule like?”
He swallowed his bite of egg. “I get up at five, run ten miles. Shower. Have to make check-in by seven. The armada owns my worthless ass until nineteen hundred. Sometimes later. Grab a quick bite. Then I spend three to four hours in the gym at night, training. I usually have two evenings off from double-duty and practice, but the weekends are full training days or matches or maneuvers.”
Gah, she couldn’t imagine such a grueling, unforgiving schedule. How did he stay sane? “What do you do for fun?”
“Climb.”
“And when do you get to climb?”
He ate a bite of rice. “Ground maneuvers, rescue and survival training, every couple of months. Then, once a year, during my liberty week.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And what?”
“What else do you enjoy?”
“Sleep.”
“Talyn, I’m serious.”
“As am I. Why do you think I want a command position so badly? They’d drop my hours down to only ten hours a day, four days a week. And I’d get two weeks of liberty a year. Best of all, I’d have a later curfew. And I’d get one night a week without one.”
Never had she been happier that her own half-Vest status had kept her out of the military.
“Have you ever thought about a career outside of the armada?”
He swallowed the fruit and reached for more. “I wanted to be a surgeon.”
“Why didn’t you go to med school?”
“Couldn’t get in with my classification. Without a paternal lineage, no Andarion school would even accept my application.”
“No one?”
He shook his head. “Believe me, I tried. I even applied to The League medical corps. They turned me down, too. Since they have so few Andarions in their service and the humans don’t like for us to treat them, they said they didn’t have any open slots for our kind. I applied three times, and with the third one, they sent notice that I wasn’t going to get in, so I shouldn’t waste time or money applying again.”
That had to be hard for him. “I’m sorry, Talyn.”
He shrugged with a nonchalance she was sure he didn’t really feel. How could he? Anyone who’d kept trying after being turned down that many times must have really wanted it.
“I got over it.”
His tone said he was being honest, but she saw the regret in his eyes. The quiet, tormented resignation.
Her heart breaking for him, she watched as he finished off his bland lunch that was forced on him by his limited career options. Options he didn’t bitch about, but he had every right to.
“So what about you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.