Deathless (Editing)

Chapter 10: Head Over Heels

"This is your new home," Tolly grumbled as he slung a bag of supplies off his shoulder and onto a small, round table near one of the two beds in the room. "Giselle," he said, nodding his head toward the strange girl standing next to the bed farthest from the door.

I had spotted her the moment we entered the dormitory, but I didn't have the chance to introduce myself.

"Giselle, this is Riverly from the Silts. She will be stationed in the infirmary. We are also betrothed." His said on an exasperated breath, as if he was reading chores off a very long to-do list.

"We are in so much love," he added in a clipped tone.   It was too late.  The damage was done.  I seemed to be little more than his beard.

"So much love," I parroted back with a flourish and toothy grin, catching his eye.

I then turned to the woman, who looked to be about my age. She was young and pretty, with dark skin, short curly hair, and large brown eyes. I tried to offer a smile, but it felt sharp and must have looked forced.

She responded by folding her arms protectively against her chest.

"The Silts?" she repeated in disbelief. "Is she a Sul—" she did not finish the word.  She didn't need to.

"No," Tolly interrupted smoothly, "Sullied do not marry Imperial Guards," he murmured conspiratorially to Giselle despite the fact that I was standing right there, hands firmly planted on hips and clearly within hearing range.

Giselle heaved a small sigh and rolled her eyes.

This was going so well.

"Dearest and truest of loves," Tolly began, sweeping an arm over my shoulder and giving me an awkward sideway hug, "this is Giselle."

"I gathered." I twisted my shoulders away from the weight of his arms, but it was no use. His grip only tightened, and he squeezed closer to me.

He then lowered his head, his cheek nearly pressed to mine, and he whispered, "She's from the Greater Grand," against my ear. "She's a friend. Play nice." His breath was warm, his words were heavy, and the light that flashed in his eyes was menacing.

Tolly was deathly serious.

He then plastered a smile back on his face, dropped his arm from around my shoulders, clapped his hands together, and gave a small bow. "Ladies, I leave you to yourselves. Have fun!"

When the door slammed behind him, Giselle gave me a hesitant onceover. "Who are you?" she asked, voice sharpened to fine point.

"I am a no one from nowhere."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, girl. The Lord High Commander's aide-de-camp does not escort ordinary medics to their barracks."

Giselle had a razor edge to her, one that was making me reconsider what in the hell Tolly had meant when he declared her a "friend."

I shrugged, trying my best to seem disinterested and not at all panicked. "I don't know."

"Where did you meet Sir Bartholomew?"

"In the Silts." I almost wanted to wince as the words tumbled from my lips. Would I have met him in the Silts? Was that his story? We really hadn't discussed the details about this gigantic lie we were about to perpetrate.

Her eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe a girl from the Silts secured an Imperial officer for her husband?" She lifted a brow to punctuate her skepticism. "Who is your family?"

Secured? I blinked at the verb. Is that what women did in the Greater Grand? Secured husbands? Like a provision before setting out on a long journey?