“I didn’t take you for the type to bully children.”

Lancecain turned from his seat on a medium-sized boulder where he’d retired after several bouts with the trainees to find a woman approaching him. Victory made no distinction between men and women when it came to war but they were not so far gone that they completely ignored courtesy between genders. The women also wore little while training to temper them against the cold, but they usually wore sleeveless shirts.

His visitor had less concern for modesty than usual, foregoing the shirt for cloth wraps that did nothing to hide the swell of her chest. She had also foregone pants for simple linen shorts and her bare feet were flushed from stomping through the snow. Her short brown hair was tied back from a plain face but her wide smile gave her a certain charm.

Lancecain eyed her toned figure, letting himself be seen as he knew she’d like the attention, before meeting her gaze. As expected, she was amused. He returned her smile. “If what I did was bullying, everyone in the north is a sadistic torturer. I only hit him with the blunt edge.”

“That’s worse. You’d have stopped if you saw blood but if it’s just bruises, you can beat him for hours.” She dropped cross-legged in the snow beside him, uncaring about wetting her shorts. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“You’re the second person to ask me that. I’m starting to think I’m not wanted.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

“I’d be better off asking you that, Iris. Isn’t it a faux pas for a Solar to come waltzing amongst the men straight from training?” Like the Stars to the Moons, the Polar Duelists had their own adjoining order comprised solely of women, the Solar Duelists.

“What’s going to happen to me? All the commanders are off for the campaigns. Lady Sunshine returned early by at least three weeks.” Iris huffed. “Khan being a traitor is a big problem, but it isn’t enough to stop a campaign. Ancestors, it feels like the younger commanders will turn around if the clouds are too gray these days.”

“Alana had her reasons.”

“Sure she did. Do you know you always defend her? Fat lot of good it’s done you. She came back with not one, but two lovers. Bet that hit you hard.”

“It didn’t hit me at all since I have no romantic feelings for her and we were never involved.”

“Yeah? Your master would tell anyone who would listen that the two of you were engaged.”

“He told anyone who would listen what he wanted to happen, not what either of us wanted. This isn’t the capital. The duke lets his children make their own decisions. Alana would never have chosen me.”

“But if she had, would you have chosen her? Say what you want, you never outright said you wouldn’t marry her.”

Lancecain smiled ruefully. He didn’t love Alana and didn’t think he could ever come to love her but that didn’t mean he didn’t think they couldn’t build a good life together. He also didn’t want to be duke, but he did think he could do a good job. He certainly knew she could. It wouldn’t be a bad life. If the situation had come to pass…he would do what was best for Victory.

He also hadn’t wanted to hurt Alana’s feelings. No matter what he said, a refusal would be taken as him finding fault with her. No northerner could imagine that he wouldn’t want to be a James unless there was something wrong with his bride to be.

Before she left for the Grand Hall, Alana was a sullen girl with too many grudges and too many things to prove. Combined with her dislike of him that he couldn’t explain, Lancecain was convinced that she would blame him for the rumors and see him as an enemy. A James was never good to have as an enemy, no matter their status.

As such, he’d tiptoed around the topic of their supposed engagement, keeping his answers vague and his voice soft. Something that paid off. No one wanted to be her enemy now. He could only thank the ancestors that despite his master’s best efforts, she still saw him as a distant friend.

“There’s the truth and then there’s what you want to hear. They could even be the same. The problem is, I don’t think you’d believe either one.”

“Bastard. You’re avoiding the question.”

“Is that really what you came here to ask?” He turned away from the amateur bouts of the trainees to face her, lips turning up in a suggestive smile.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. You don’t have the James girl to hide behind anymore. Your flings are going to start wanting a real commitment. Like my sister. You’ve been avoiding her.”

Lancecain’s smile stiffened at the ends. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t slander me casually. I never hid behind anyone.” He got along well with the young women of the north. Neither party had any illusions about what they were after. In most cases, it was the women turning down hopeful men who wanted more, as their orders frowned on relationships while they marched in the campaigns. But every rule had an exception. “And yes, I’ve been avoiding Eris. For obvious reasons.”

He was too polite to insult a woman without very strong cause, but Eris’ reputation was widespread enough that he didn’t have to.

Iris wasn’t fazed. “I’m not asking you to fuck her,” she said with the usual bluntness of women educated about sex and its consequences the day they picked up their first wooden sword. “I’m asking you to stop treating her like she’s carrying a plague. The two of you were friends before. You can say hi once in a while.”

“I could…but then Eris might get the wrong idea again. And then she might put a spear through a poor woman’s gut again. How many did it take to pull her off? Five?”

“Seven. Five to pull her off and two more to hold her down while the others tended to their wounds. Come on, Lancecain. You know how passionate she is and you were her first love. Are. Our mothers and aunts can warn us all they want but the heart can’t be controlled like a sword arm.”

“You are not being very convincing.”

“Why do I have to say anything else? You liked her too, didn’t you? The two of you were closer than a northie and their armor.”

“Until she tried to disembowel me.”

“After you made a spectacle of yourself with that girl from the Stars. Saying no commitment is one thing. Watching the man you slept with last night kissing another woman in the morning would make anyone angry. Eris is just a little quicker to express her anger than most.”

Lancecain sighed but did nothing to hide his reluctance.

“Fine, fine. I’m done meddling in your two’s affair. Talk to her or don’t but I promise you if you don’t, she’ll find you.” Iris climbed to her feet. “Today isn’t yesterday. Pretty soon, you’re going to succeed your master. He expects you to have little Lances to secure his legacy before then. Try telling a woman you’re only in it for a good time when she’s having your firstborn.” She clapped him on the shoulder and walked away while chuckling. “Stop by for dinner whenever you want.”

“Sure,” Lancecain muttered. He knew Iris was correct. If he wasn’t going to marry Alana to be the next duke, his master would want him to settle down as quickly as possible. The woman didn’t matter, as Alana was the only woman with the light affinity in the north. If it wasn’t her, it didn’t matter, and there were plenty of women in the fort who understood a contractual marriage. He knew his master would be pestering him to be married with a child on the way before next year’s campaign. Another reason he hadn’t been firm with his reluctance to his supposed engagement. Now, there was nothing to hold back the agendas aimed at him.

Things were changing and not all for the better.