The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,116

wife, or daughter knows to be his truest self.” Galina used to consider the writings of Lady Fignolov to be overly harsh regarding the less fair sex, but every day now seemed to lend additional credence to her views.

“My, but the garrison seems brighter by several degrees, as if an angel has descended among us.”

Galina turned to see General Savitri Zaniolo standing beside her, his eyes following the movements of Sebastian’s troops, but his expression betraying a faint, teasing smile.

Galina did not like or trust Zaniolo. But Sebastian felt he owed the general a great deal, since it was he who had suggested the promotion to captain, prompted him to propose to Galina, and even taught him the necessary dance steps for the formal engagement ball. As such, Galina supposed she was indebted to him as well and should strive for at least a modicum of cordiality.

“Is a woman’s presence at the garrison so unusual that it implies supernatural intervention, General Zaniolo?” she asked.

His smile broadened. “I’m afraid so, my dear. If it were up to me, I can assure you there would be women abounding in this place.”

“Yes, just as I saw you abounding all over that young woman at my engagement ball.”

It was a risk being so flippant with Sebastian’s ally, but she had a feeling Zaniolo was the sort of man that the poet Valery Lomonosov described as “a rake so in love with his own notoriety, he delighted in being scolded for it.” The general’s quick laugh and cavalier shrug suggested she was correct in her assessment.

“And to what do we owe the rare pleasure of your feminine charms?” he asked.

“Merely a longing to see my beloved. He has just returned from a mission that took him away from me for several days and I simply could not wait until supper to see him. You know how weak willed and impetuous womenfolk can be, General.”

He turned to her with a pained expression. “Galina Odoyevtseva, you may insult my morals as frequently as you like, but please do not insult my intelligence. You are neither weak willed nor impetuous. Furthermore, know that I am very fond of your betrothed and consider him almost a younger brother. Your presence suggests you have some concern for his well-being, and you may be assured that any anxieties you may harbor are mine as well.”

His candor threw Galina a little off balance. Or at least his pretense of candor. He was, after all, head of the imperial spy network in Izmoroz. She would need to tread very carefully with him indeed.

“My apologies, General. As you are an intelligent man, you will no doubt forgive my initial evasiveness. I did not wish to express my concerns for fear they would cause an unfavorable impression upon my betrothed.”

He inclined his head. “A reasonable fear when speaking to his superior. But I hope Sebastian has told you that I am a true ally, and I also hope you will consider me the same.”

“You are most kind, General. If I may beg a further kindness, do you have any advice on what a woman might say to soothe the troubled thoughts of a man who is asked time and again to perform… difficult tasks in service to his empire?”

Zaniolo sighed in a somewhat overly dramatic fashion. “Alas, I fear when it comes to such trials, there is little succor to be had from mere words. What a man needs at times like that is the sweet embrace of his wife, and the adoring gaze of his children. Those are the comforts he craves.”

There could be no mistake that Zaniolo was suggesting she shut up and prepare to start popping out babies. A spiteful anger rose up within her, despite her best efforts to suppress it.

“Alas, General Zaniolo, for you have neither a wife nor children.”

The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them, and she winced at the possible ramifications of her barb.

But rather than get offended, Zaniolo merely nodded. “Too true, my dear. Too true.”

There was an awkward, uncomfortably long silence.

Then the general said, “You remind me of my own innocent surety as a youth. I recall it perhaps better than most, as it was the impetus for both my greatest achievements and worst failures. What I say next, you will view however you wish, but I beg you to take it in the warmhearted spirit in which it is given. Do not pry too deeply into the difficult work a soldier