The barracks were easily recognizable when they arrived. Up close, Dorothea could see that the white paint looked fresh, shiny and new.

“We’ve had to rebuild a few times over the years,” Rhys said thoughtfully as he followed her gaze. “Both for internal and external reasons.” He chuckled. “I’ll take you to Iree’s office, but then I think I need to get back to my post. I’ve been dawdling. Not that I haven’t enjoyed myself, but you know how it is.”

She didn’t actually, but that was the nature of their vastly different positions. “If you tell me where to go, I can find my own way. I know I’ve kept you long enough.”

Rhys nodded, smiling with slight appreciation. “When you reach the mess hall, just go through the doorway in the right corner. Or just wait and have a snack. Iree will find you either way.”

“Okay.” Simple enough. “Alright. Well… Thank you for everything.” She dipped her head in gratitude.

“Anytime. I’ll see you soon enough, so until then.” He lifted a hand in farewell and turned to head back the way they had come in one motion.

Once he was out of sight, Dorothea sighed softly. “Goodness…” She had imagined that soldiers would be constantly grim and morose, but of course that wasn’t the case. The days of constant brutal battle had ended, and this left room for a semblance of normalcy. However, that the war wasn’t over meant a lingering sense of danger pervaded and prevailed. She wouldn’t call the Sacerians’ current way of life worse than the fight she had heard they’d endured up to this point, but it wasn’t peace by any means.

She shook her head and smacked her cheeks lightly. Soon, like Rhys had already implied, it wouldn’t be her business. There was a village to go back to and a people to guide. Not that she would or could forget the impressions of today, but… But what? What was there to do with them?

Pushing the question aside, she approached the entrance to the barracks. The first room of the soldiers’ space was much like a regular living room, though less homey. A squat table with playing cards scattered across and beneath it was surrounded by four white seat cushions with gold fringe wisping from their borders. A cabinet covered a wide expanse of the right wall; wine bottles of varying purples, reds, some blackish, and a few creamy and yellowish whites formed a rainbow organized from lightest to darkest shade. A massive couch rested atop a golden and white rug on the opposite side of the room. A bookshelf, far less stocked than the wine cabinet, was nestled into the corner of the left wall adjacent to the couch.

The next room, she didn’t dally in for too long. There wasn’t much to see in the bathroom besides standard toilets and showers, but it smelled freshly of flowers in large part due to garlands of carnations in what seemed like every color possible that hung on the walls. She stopped and stared for a few moments, fascinated by Sacer’s lush plant life.

The final area was fitted with long wooden tables suited for large groups. Mingling aromas that tickled the inside of Dorothea’s nose and mouth came from a counter at the front that separated the rest of the room from a small kitchen. A stir of movement and some clattering from that direction distracted from the very pointed eagerness inspired in her.

The source of the sound was a girl with a slim build who now approached Dorothea, one hand tugging on a flaxen braid where it hung over her shoulder. The heels of her tall boots clipped the floor faintly; white cloth from white, gold and green sectioned pants hung over the tops of the boots where they stopped at the upper calf. Gold and white-striped suspenders draped over a brown jacket with pink shoulder detailing and a blue collar. Brown eyes rested beneath raised brows, and the girl’s feet stamped when she stopped directly in front of Dorothea in a wide-legged stance.

Still, her smile was inviting enough. “Can I help you?”

Dorothea blinked several times as she registered just how deep the girl’s voice was. It wasn’t just deep, it was… Ah, so this was a male. Or were they? Never mind. “I was sent here by Rhys. I mean, Captain Tamlin.”

The person’s demeanor changed instantly. “Ah.” Dorothea was eyed up and down slowly in a manner suspicious as opposed to predatorial. “So you’re like his…friend? Not, like, boning him or anything? It’s a very standard question, just answer it.”

Boning? Interesting word choice, and she hated to dignify the question with an answer. “No. I am most definitely not. Doing that. Ahem.” She coughed, feeling exhausted and humiliated all of a sudden. The weight of everything that had happened that day was starting to settle in now that she wasn’t pleasantly distracted by Rhys.

“Hm. That’s nice.” It didn’t sound like the situation was thought of as nice at all. “By the way, although you did a good, well, relatively good, job of hiding your surprise, I’ll just answer the question on your mind and say that I’m a guy.”

“But I wasn’t going to ask…” Dorothea faltered and scrambled to follow as the boy made swift, long strides towards the front of the room. “Um. My name is Dorothea Atlin. It’s good to meet you.” Since she had to stay here or else no one would know where to find her, she may as well try to start fresh.

“Hollyhock Novak.”

“Okay. So…” She trailed off yet again as Hollyhock ducked behind the counter that now separated them. It was marble, fresh wet streaks from cleaning and a faint sheen dappling where the glow from hanging lights hit it. The ceiling was strung with them, chains that ended in clusters of blown glass in a myriad of nonsensical swirling shapes.

“Hey.” Hollyhock popped back up from whatever hidden task he had been performing. A plate rested in one of his hands while the other hand was busy tapping its fingers on the counter and sending up impatient clacks from long nails. “Here,” he clipped, jerking the plate in front of her face.

She took it gingerly. “Thank you.” Two pieces of bread and what looked to be peanut butter between them. Nothing suspicious on the outside, at least.

Hollyhock smirked and let out an amused snort. “Just a sandwich. No mold, maggots or mustard.”

“Huh?” Why was mustard placed alongside those two things, categorically?

“I see you inspecting it. Relax. I didn’t spit in or poison it.”

“Bit of a jump there, don’t you think? Between spit and poison.”

“Nah, not really.” One side of his mouth curled mischievously. “You’re angry now, right? Like really angry. I’ve been taught to notice these things in people. It’s my job.” He sounded rather proud of that.

She couldn’t allow her frayed nerves, continuously grated by the fear of the matter at hand, to show. “I’m more curious than angry. You’ve been nothing but rude since you first saw me. As far as I know, you’ve got no good reason.”

“Not angry, huh? See, I feel like that’s a lie. I’d very much like to hear your honest thoughts right now. Not because I’m interested, but because I’m bored. Cleaning the mess hall is like, my least favorite thing to do. Even under killing people. Ha! That was a joke. Or was it?”

“Really.” Dorothea frowned and placed the plate on the counter, pushing it away slowly. “My honest thoughts.”

“Yep. So lay it on me! Come on. Hold nothing back.” Hollyhock grinned and leaned forward.

Fine. Fine! She’d give him exactly what he wanted if he was going to be such a snob about every little thing!

“I’ll tell you, then. I’m thinking about how easily we could have been killed by a singular Ghurian soldier mere hours ago and how fragile every single ounce of peace we try to cling to even in Sirpo is while all of you people are still at war. And I’m thinking, that, that”—Dorothea threw her hands up—“I don’t know what I’ve been thinking! What has neutrality done for us? We can all just get killed by some woman who desperately needs a haircut anyways! But soldiers are people too, aren’t they? I don’t know how I’d never thought of that before, but I haven’t beyond being annoyed that no one can seem to get along. But what’s there to do about any of this? And it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But then again, it’s not like there’s a point to my life the way things are now, and then seeing everyone here feel so sure about something…” Was that how Ophelia had felt? Was that why her mother had left her? Was that what Dorothea herself was missing?

But she wasn’t done, oh no. “And another thing! Where do you get off on asking me who I might or might not be courting? None of your business! In fact, there’s only one other person in this world whose business it is and they’re off who knows where! On that note, is Sharkie okay right now? What’s that commander up to?! Also, I’m thinking that I’m so very hungry and I wish I could trust this sandwich but I just can’t!” Dorothea let out a huff and folded her hands on the counter. “So those are my thoughts.” Now, all she could hope was that none of that tirade would find its way back to the captain or commander.

Oh, who was she kidding?