The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER XXXII | THE FEMALE SOLDIER

       MAARIT STOOD ALONE on the very edge of the courtyard, where the cobblestones began, glancing around apprehensively. Unlike usual, her midnight hair fell down her back in one thick plait of polished obsidian. She was not wearing a dress, nor did any jewels glister around her throat and wrists. Instead, she wore a soldier's uniform, fitted to her small frame. She might've passed for one of them if not for her delicate hands, her narrow shoulders, her slim neck and the outward curve of her breast—she was very obviously a woman.

Alexander had greeted her with the outfit as soon as she'd awoken. Though it had been much too large for her, he'd used the appropriate enchantment to have it tailored to her figure.

       She had gone to breakfast expecting to see the king, but all she found was a note in his place: two sentences scribbled hastily in messy calligraphy. The note had said that Theodoracius would meet her at the courtyard and escort her to the training grounds to begin her fighting lessons. It had also informed her that none of the other soldiers and guardsmen, with the exception of the one instructing her, would be around while she trained—and she appreciated the mentioning of this particular detail. She was glad that he realized that since the incident with Sergius, Maarit was terribly uncomfortable around most of the men that worked inside the castle.

       The king had not yet arrived, so Maarit craned her neck to look for him, her nerves radiating from her with every discomfited shuffle. Her hands also had telltale signs of anxiety, for there were minuscule crescent-shaped marks on her palms from where her nails had pressed into the soft skin. In many ways, she was still reeling from the events of the previous night. It was the first time she'd truly understood how soothsaying could be considered a curse. Long after she had cleaned herself up, the taste of blood lingered, leading her to wonder what had happened. She had yet to decipher the meaning of the visions.

       She continued to wait, eyes wild with impatience due to the fact that members of the Royal Guard were beginning to stare and whisper. Growing tired of their suspicion, she began to pace around the courtyard, hoping to catch a glimpse of Theodoracius somewhere.

       The castle's exterior smelled just as it had the last time she'd been there: of a lush, honeyed oasis. Several trees weaved through the grassy expanse, some bearing cherry blossoms and some fruit. The gardens twined around both sides of the castle, rich with marigolds and bleeding hearts, with colours that were utterly striking to the eye. Larks hummed as they flew from treetop to treetop. The sound was oddly pleasant.

Turning her gaze skyward, Maarit saw that there were clouds obstructing the sun. It was not a hot day, but the air was thick with humidity. Beneath the uniform, a thin sheen of sweat was already beginning to coat her bronze skin like dew on a windowpane.

       Maarit gravitated towards a bush of roses and leaned down to inhale their scent. The aroma of the flowers was overpowering, causing tears to spring to her eyes. She pulled back at once, drawing her gaze to the stables.

       The dark silhouette of a man standing beside a white horse caught her attention. It took a moment for her to realize that it was Theodoracius. Letting out a sigh of relief, she padded through the grass and towards the stables.

He did not appear to hear her coming, but she didn't want to disturb him. It was one of those rare moments when she could see his cold exterior beginning to melt. Maarit recalled that Alexander had once told her the king loved his horse, but she hadn't expected it to be true.