A Devious Exchange

Friends and Foes

I stayed close to Nicholas' side while we ushered ourselves to the hallway. It was like I was walking without my own will, still too frazzled about Atticus' behavior. Nicholas didn't lift his gaze from the door, watching as the crowd of soldiers followed us out and passed us down the hall. I wasn't sure what to do other than fold my arms out in front of me and keep my chin up.

Breathe in, breathe out.

A few maids brushed past us with the same lack of conversation, a cool breeze catching against my neck at the indication. They were clearly busied with all the castle work to even bat us an eye, much different from Vivian's warming gestures. She was long gone by now, and I wondered where she took my luggage now that I'm thinking about it.

"Let's get some fresh air, while I answer some of your... concerns."

Nicholas nudged my arm before turning away down the hall. I nodded slowly, albeit only to myself, while quickly moving to keep pace. I didn't want to stray far behind nor get lost, knowing the Commander never left the room. I shuttered again at the thought of his presence. If one thing is for certain, I'm most certainty keeping a far distance from him.

Nicholas led me to yet another door, though upon opening, it led to the luscious outside. Bushes lined the large, plain patio of smooth stone, painted with the vines of overgrowth. The ground was also filled the brim with men in soldier's clothing. They scattered about in the grass, the pavement, and leaning against the bricks of both the castle and the mighty wall. There had to have been nearly a hundred of them altogether, the space as crowded as the markets. And loud like it too.

Turning my head at the chaos, I noticed that the group I sat with previously had separated into small and large groups. Their chuckles and boasts lifted the intense atmosphere before like an extinguished fire, joking around and even practice-fighting with their swords. The cling of their weapons against the fading light with the loud hoard of conversations wasn't something I'd ever seen before, but I guess it was their norm. The most I'd ever seen of soldiers were at the town hangings or infrequent patrols, but that only counted to nearly a dozen or so at max. I felt out of place, still crossing my arms over my chest as I awkwardly watched Nicholas sweep his gaze across the field.

It was evident I was in the soldier's yard, or outside living quarters I should say. Separate from the castle towards the back wall stood dozens of small, cobbled huts. There wasn't much to them other than a slant roof and wooden walls, a single door barely latching onto each of their fronts. I assume the soldiers couldn't return home every night, or even for weeks if I had to bet, so these quarters were likely all they had while off patrol.

Nicholas steered away from the larger groups, stepping onto the grass towards a large sitting area. The wooden bench was extremely weathered, splitting down its seams to nearly equal two halves. The group didn't seem to mind, instead opting to bicker back and forth whilst Nicholas casually came to stand between them, his hands loosely hanging on his hips.

His presence made the two stop momentarily, before one of the lads shot up out of his seat and shoved his finger at Nicholas' chest.

"You call that a 'casual greetin?' I did not sign up for my neck to be wrung by a haggard!" His puffy cheeks were doused in a dark red flush, on onslaught of vulgar words spewing from his mouth with plentiful cracks. He had to be extremely young, judging by the lack of vocal depth and boyish features. The way his tongue rolled would make a girl blush but a woman scowl; it was all-talk with empty meaning to derive some sort of rugged, manly look I suppose to his comrades. His features are almost comedic, an unruly mess of blonde curls wisping around his ears, and a pair of tall legs that didn't quite fit his other appendages.