"Your Majesty," Commander Otho said, his voice firm. "I suggest you return to your chamber. You are not in a condition to continue your practice."
Hermi looked up at the old Commander. She sat on a stone bench while the Healer tended to her arm.
The cut was fortunately shallower than the initial pain had implied, and it was on the arm she used to draw the string, not the one that braced the bow. Even so, she would have to rest for the day, unless she wanted the wound to split open the clumsy stitches the Healer had just sewn into her flesh.
Though Hermi felt a measure of satisfaction at how Otho had handled the incident, she decided that maintaining a firm composure was wiser than revealing approval. If she allowed herself to appear soft or easily appeased, it would only invite further insolence from the ranks.
"Keep your men in line from now on, Commander," Hermi replied. "I do not wish to see them lurking anywhere near the lanes when I resume my practice."
"That is for certain, Your Majesty," Otho answered. "As their Commander, I apologize again for those wretched fools. It is my own lack of oversight that bred such behavior."
Hermi inclined her head, satisfied. The man's age seemed to have carved not only discipline into him, but also a level of wisdom worthy of his rank.
"Tell me, Otho," Hermi challenged. "Do you believe me, or your men?"
The question made Otho stiffen visibly. His gaze flickered toward the Healer, the movement subtle but enough to betray his reluctance to speak candidly before an outsider.
Hermi caught the meaning of that glance at once. In a fortress where gossip spread like wildfire, she understood the Commander's fear that careless words would ignite fresh drama within his division.
Turning to the Healer, Hermi said, "I believe that much wrapping is enough for a wound this small."
The Healer looked at her. Blood was still visibly seeping through the bandage, but he clearly shared the fortress's general apathy toward her. He did not bother protesting.
Packing his tools with a practiced lack of concern, the Healer rose. "Then I shall excuse myself, Your Majesty. You should give your practice a few days of rest. I shall return tomorrow to change the dressing."
Hermi watched the man go with bored eyes. He looked exactly like a man who couldn't care less about tending to someone he expected to be dead in months, yet he still managed to maintain a facade of care. He was likely mourning the amount of bandage he had wasted on her.
Once the Healer had gone, Hermi turned back to the Commander. "Are you more comfortable speaking freely now, or should we relocate somewhere more private?"
Otho seemed to appreciate the gesture, though his gaze dipped to the ground as he weighed his words. After a long pause, he spoke solemnly.
"You have no logical reason to give my men a hard time so suddenly. On the contrary... I suspect Dante and his squad do."
Hermi arched a brow. She had never seen those faces in her life. She couldn't imagine what deep hatred they could harbor against her.
"Enlighten me, then, Commander," Hermi demanded. "What possible reason would drive your archers to deliberately wound their Queen in broad daylight?"
"It is a matter of history," Otho replied, his tone cautious. "The queens who came before you left behind a legacy of resentment. I suspect that resentment has now been transferred to you."
Hermi recognized the topic at once, her voice turning bitter. "I assume Dante and his squad were assigned to the wagons that transported luxury goods for them?"
Surprise flashed across the Commander's stoic face. "So you have heard."
"You seem surprised."
"I did not expect you to acquaint yourself with such topics so soon, Your Majesty," he admitted. "Given that you have only just arrived."
"It is my duty as Queen to understand what happens in my kingdom," Hermi replied.
Otho grew contemplative, his voice settling into a grave cadence. "Dante's squad suffered the highest casualties. He arrived here with four others from the Kingdom of Bastione. They were not blood brothers, but they were closer than family. He is the only one remaining."
Hermi fell silent as the revelation sank in. Having witnessed her village razed and her mother slain before her eyes, powerless to intervene, she could almost feel the crushing weight of the grief Dante must carry.
To Dante, any queen setting foot in this fortress was a target, and his attack against her was merely a way to satisfy his long-simmering thirst for vengeance.
Still, his reasoning was flawed. She hadn't commanded those wagons. If he sought retribution, his arrows should have been aimed at Cassian, not her.
"I doubt he was the only one in your division to lose comrades on those shopping expeditions," she said at last. "I imagine the sentiment runs through the entire army."
Otho made no attempt to hide the truth. "We men live and fight side by side against monsters and invaders. Every knight expects a death more glorious than one suffered to satisfy a queen's whims."
"Then it is your King you should hold accountable!" Hermi snapped. "He was the one who granted those pointless requests. They served the kingdom no purpose."
"His Majesty has provided us with a life we wouldn't have dared imagine," Otho replied, his conviction unexpectedly steadfast. "It is only fitting we return the favor by fulfilling his minor requests."
Hermi's bewilderment deepened until disbelief was written plainly across her face. "I don't understand. He is a tyrant. A horrible king. The entire continent believes so. Yet you speak as though he is a sage to whom you owe your very souls."
At her accusation, Otho finally raised his gaze. His dark eyes were steady, pinning her with an unsettling intensity. For a moment, Hermi couldn't tell if the Commander was trying to force her to see the truth of his words, or if he was simply carefully measuring his response.
At last, the tension in Otho's jaw bled away. The deep lines carved into his face by the years seemed to soften.
"Your Majesty, I know you are wounded," he said quietly. "But I would make a request of you, one that shall answer why we hold no grudge against our King."
Hermi frowned, suspicious. "State your request."
Otho offered a rare, faint smile. "Would you like to take a ride outside the city? It must have been some time since you last saw anything beyond these fortress walls."