A Blaze in the Dark (A New Dawn #1)

Chapter 38 - Nick

 73 civilians lost their lives. Countless women and young girls were raped. The damage is in the city undoes 80% of the profit the harbour made this year. We cannot continue like this. Good tidings, Lord Simon.

Uh oh. Nick ducked against the stable wall as a carriage passed him by, its heavy wheels rolling through a deep puddle at the side of the road and splashing him wet.

He spat and spluttered. Just his luck. Now his bag and uniform would smell like he had been wallowing in a shallow pool all day instead of cramming a year's worth of notes in preparation for the annual army camp in the royal forest.

But he had no time to lose. He grabbed his bag tight and pushed against the door of the stables. As if his life depended on it, he sprinted down the corridor, jumped over stacks of hay and avoided an inconveniently placed pitchfork. The Gods couldn't taunt him like this, not at one minute to six.

Sloth was whispering to give up already—he would never arrive at the dinner table in time—yet he resisted His temptation. If Queen Crystal was a gunpowder bomb about to explode, his mission was to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. People and weapons weren't so different.

He darted up the steps, his breathing heavy and cheeks hot. At the top, he undid his bag and placed it in the corner. Best-case scenario, a servant would find it and bring it to his chamber. Worst-case... He exhaled deeply and shrugged... He wasn't planning on packing any books anyway; his backpack would torture him enough already.

He straightened his back. Late or not, he would walk in with dignity and honour, as was expected of a future General.

Not that he had ever seen any of the officers with a dirty uniform, but he couldn't go back to his room and get changed. It would take far too long and his stomach rumbled with hunger. He hadn't eaten since the shared breakfast with Billy early in the morning.

As he entered the dining hall, he pretended not to notice Lieutenant Michael standing by the door and walked on, gazing over the heads of his castlemates—he could hardly call them family. They were all there, their cutlery already clinking against their porcelain plates. The Goddess of Kindness hadn't granted him with a busy King and General.

Princess Lana smacked the table, her voice teasing. "You owe me a coin, Sebby. I told you he would come."

From the other side of the table came a groan. "Damn the Gods. I was so sure the army would keep him forever tonight."

"Language," King Thomas muttered. "Sit down quickly, Nick. We've only just started."

"Not so fast, Tom." The Queen grazed her hand over her husband's. She looked at Nick scornfully. "Which pathetic excuse do you have for me this time? Care to explain why you present yourself late and looking like this?" She gestured at his uniform.

"It's the day before the camp, Your Majesty." Nick lowered his head, acknowledging her authority. Combined with a good explanation she would have to let him go, wouldn't she?

"And?"

He glanced up, her upper lip full of contempt and her eyes relentless. Did he really need to explain that Jasper had ordered him to learn all battle strategies in human history by heart because Bart and his extensive knowledge wouldn't be there? Why would she care that his wife was days from giving birth to their first-born child and that Captain Jonathan had pardoned him?

"Lost your tongue." The Queen shook her head with short, disapproving shakes. "I should send you to your room without dinner, Nicolas. I bet that will teach you a lesson."