*Chapter 12: The First Word in Two Days*
770 Words
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Two days passed.
Amara ate. In silence. Bread left on the table. Stew when Lucien wasn’t looking. She didn’t thank him. Didn’t speak to him. Not one word.
Her voice was a weapon now. And she wouldn’t waste it on him.
Today, she stood outside Lucien’s big log quarters. Back to the door. Hands resting on the rough wooden beams of the porch. Sun on her face for the first time since Bellewood.
She watched the base breathe.
Men drilling in the yard. Boots slamming dirt. Rifles snapping up.
Other men scrubbing pots by the water trough. Laughing low, quick, before an officer walked past.
Some just being men - leaning against cabin walls, mending uniforms, carving wood. Human. For seconds at a time.
It was strange. Commanded, yes. But underneath... still men.
Then she saw it.
Near the training yard, behind the stables.
A sergeant. Big. Scar across his cheek. Belt in his hand. And in front of him - a simple soldier.
Young soldier. Looking like he was eighteen. Face soft. Eyes blue and terrified. Too innocent for this place. Too gentle for a uniform.
The sergeant raised the belt. “You missed the mark again, Reid! Useless!”
The crack of leather on skin. The boy - Elias - staggered forward. Didn’t make a sound. Just clenched his jaw. Took it.
Amara’s breath caught. Elias Reid.
Lucien stood not far off, arms crossed, watching. A small, satisfied grin on his face. Like this was discipline. Like this was right.
Something snapped in Amara.
She ran. Down the porch steps. Bare feet slapping dirt. Past saluting soldiers who didn’t know whether to stop her.
She threw herself between the sergeant and Elias. Small. Furious. Arms spread.
“Stop!” she shouted. The first word she’d spoken in two days. It came out raw, cracked, but loud. “Don’t you touch him again!”
The sergeant blinked. Looked past her to Lucien. “Sir?”
Lucien’s grin vanished. Crossed. Cold. “Continue, Sergeant.”
Amara turned her head, but didn’t move her body. Still shielding Elias. “No.”
“No?” Lucien’s voice cut through the yard. Every man froze. “Mrs. Devereaux, step aside. This is army business.”
“No,” Amara said again. Louder. She turned fully now, facing Lucien. Chest heaving. “He’s a boy. He missed a mark. You don’t beat boys to death for missing a mark!”
“Step. Aside.” Lucien’s tone was steel. A command.
Amara didn’t move. “Make him stop.” She looked at the sergeant now. “I said stop.”
The sergeant looked between her and Lucien. Sweat on his brow. This wasn’t in the manual. The Colonel’s wife telling a sergeant no. In front of everyone.
Lucien’s jaw worked. “Sergeant, I gave you an order.”
Amara didn’t blink. “And I gave you one.”
Silence. The whole base holding its breath. A colonel’s wife defying him. A sergeant caught between two orders.
Slowly, the sergeant lowered the belt. “...Yes, ma’am.”
He stepped back. Put the belt away.
Elias, behind Amara, stared at her back like he’d seen a ghost. Like no one had ever stepped in front of him before.
Lucien’s face went dark. Not rage. Calculation. He walked up to her. Close. Voice low so only she could hear.
“You just gave an order on my base, Amara,” he said softly. Dangerously. “Do you understand what that means?”
Amara lifted her chin. “It means someone had to.”
Lucien stared at her. Long. Hard. Then he turned to the yard. “Dismissed!”
Men scattered. But they all saw it. The Colonel’s wife told a sergeant no. And the sergeant obeyed her.
As the yard emptied, Lucien grabbed Amara’s arm. Not hard. But firm. Dragged her back toward the quarters.
Elias watched her go. One hand pressed to his bruised cheek. Mouth open like he wanted to say something.
But he didn’t. Not yet.
Inside the quarters, Lucien slammed the door. “What did you think you were doing?”
Amara pulled free. “Saving a soldier from a man with a belt.”
“You don’t give orders here,” he said. “I do.”
“Then give better ones,” she shot back. Voice still hoarse, but stronger now. “Because beating him won’t make him a better soldier. It’ll just make him hate you.”
Lucien stared at her. Thumb still bandaged from her bite.
For the first time, he had no command for her. Only questions.
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- Writer
