The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles #3) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,44

a fine table,” I said to Colonel Bodeen, “and I must admit I am quite impressed.”

“The Marabella outpost is known for its exceptional food,” Fiona, Lieutenant Belmonte’s wife, answered, her voice filled with pride.

“The better fed a soldier, the better they can serve,” Colonel Bodeen explained, as if the food wasn’t an extravagance, but a battle strategy.

The memory of the Komizar’s assured grin and tall shining silos shimmered behind my eyes. Great armies march on their stomachs.

I stared down at the plate before me. A smear of orange sauce and a pheasant leg bone lay upon it. There had been no plates of bones to pass before the meal, no acknowledgment of sacrifice. Its absence left a strange hole in me that begged to be filled. I wasn’t sure what had happened to my own tether of bones. It had probably been thrown away along with my bloody and torn clothes as something unclean and savage. I discreetly slipped the bone from the plate and hid it in my napkin before the servant could take it away.

“I can’t imagine what you suffered at the hands of those savages,” Madam Hague said.

“If you mean the Vendans, yes, some were savage, but many others were extremely kind.”

She raised her eyebrows as if doubtful.

Captain Hague threw back another glass of wine. “But you must regret your decision to flee the wedding. All this—”

“No, Captain. I don’t regret my decision.”

The table grew silent.

“If I had been shipped off to Dalbreck, there are valuable things I never would have learned.”

Lieutenant Dupre leaned forward. “Surely there are easier ways to learn lessons of youth—”

“Not lessons, Lieutenant. Cold, hard facts. The Vendans have amassed an army and devised weapons that could wipe out both Dalbreck and Morrighan.”

Dubious glances were exchanged. A few eyes came close to outright rolling. Poor delirious girl.

Rafe put his hand on mine. “Lia, we can talk about this later. Tomorrow, with the colonel and other officers.” He quickly suggested we retire and excused us. As we walked past Sven and Bodeen, I eyed the near-empty bottle of red-eye.

I grabbed it from the table and sniffed. “Colonel Bodeen, do you mind if I take the rest of this with me?”

His eyes widened. “I’m afraid it’s very strong brew, Your Highness.”

“Yes, I know.”

He looked at Rafe for approval, and Rafe nodded. I was getting quite weary of everyone deferring to Rafe before answering me.

“It’s not for me,” I explained, then shot an accusing stare at Sven. “We did promise Griz a glass, didn’t we?” Bodeen remained gracious, but several of the dinner guests cleared their throats, and stared at Bodeen, waiting for a refusal to share the red-eye. I understood their disapproval. They had just learned of an entire platoon’s demise at the hands of Vendans. Still, everyone couldn’t keep ignoring the fact that Kaden and Griz had suffered injuries to help save our lives.

Rafe took the bottle from me and handed it to a sentry standing at the door. “See that the large fellow in the surgeon’s barracks gets this.” Rafe looked back at me and raised his brows as if to ask if the problem was solved, and I nodded my satisfaction.

* * *

“These are your quarters,” Rafe said, pulling aside the curtained entry of the tent. Even in the dim glowing light of an overhead chandelier, I was met with a shock of color. A lush indigo carpet swirling with flowers covered the entirety of the floor. A blue velvet quilt, white satin pillows, and fur blankets were piled high on a canopied bed topped with finials carved in the shapes of lion heads. Elegant blue drapes were gathered back with gold cording, waiting to be pulled, and a squat stove with an intricate grill was nearby. Fresh cornflowers graced a side table, and a small dining table with two chairs was in a corner. It was more luxurious than my own chamber at home.

“And your quarters?” I asked.

“Over there.”

A dozen yards away, a similar tent had been erected. A short distance that seemed so far. We hadn’t slept apart since we left the Sanctum. I had grown accustomed to feeling his arm around my waist, the warmth of his breath on my neck, and I couldn’t imagine him not being with me tonight, especially now that we finally had what might be called real privacy.

I smoothed back a lock from his face. His lids were heavy. “You’ve gotten no rest, have you?”

“Not yet. There will be time for that later—”

“Rafe,” I