Chapter 35
Hurting and Healing
21st of Eighthmoon, MC 299 (6 Charles 9)
Maricabo, Wellsley, People's Republic of the Malvinas (South Malvina)
Root's leg was throbbing. The pain meds had worn off. Did he still have any left? That damned back alley doctor only had one half-empty bottle to give them and Root wasn't the only one who needed it.
He looked at the nightstand. No bottle of painkillers, but a bottle of some cheap hooch he must've drunk to supplement the pain meds. No wonder his head was so fuzzy.
It looked like there was still some left, but when he reached for the bottle, he had trouble flexing his fingers. It may have been cheap hooch, but there wasn't any point in wasting it if he was just going to drop the bottle because he couldn't hold on to the damned thing.
As he turned his attention away from the nightstand, he caught sight of the other side of him and the golden eye staring back at him.
It was Azuki. With him. In the same bed. And other than her bandages, there wasn't a stitch on her. For that matter, the same was true of him as well.
"Good morning, Mr. Root," she said in a quiet voice.
Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't take his brain this long to piece things together. In his current state, however, he had to walk himself back through recent events nice and slow. He had convinced Belette to let him tag along in the getaway vehicle, arguing that it would help put the rescuees at ease seeing a familiar face. The explosion was their cue to enter the kill zone to extract the hostages. He was reunited with Anne, who was carrying a wounded Miss Duveau. Then he got shot. No, it wasn't just him. Anne was shot and that same bullet went through his leg.
After that, everything was jumbled. There were bits and pieces he could remember, but it was all mixed up in a drug-addled haze. Somehow it all led to his present situation.
Azuki reached out to touch his chest. Two of her fingers were taped together and a gauze pad covered most of what they call in combatives the knife edge of the hand.
In denial of what had obviously happened, Root asked her, "Azuki, what are you doing here?"
"Do I need to explain?" she asked in turn. "You seemed to know what you were doing last night."
She drew herself in closer, pressing her body against his. The softness of her body, the warmth of it, it reminded him of the time in the tent where she saved him from freezing to death. Were it not for the threat of roving Alpini and possibly the audience of Cale Russo's dogs, they could have easily gone with the flow of things back then. The situation was different now. It was much worse, for a number of reasons.
With the realization of what he had done sinking in, he covered his face with his hand. His mind began to fill with the consequences, but that wasn't his first concern.
"How's Anne?" he asked.
"Hurt," Azuki replied. "Not awake. Still alive, barely. Maybe she will live. Maybe..."
She pulled herself in closer still.
"I am sorry, Mr. Root. I failed you. You told me to protect her."
"It's not your fault," Root told her. "There was only one of you and a whole helluva lot more of them. You did what you could and you've got the scars to show for it."
Looking at Azuki out of the corner of his eye, Root couldn't help but notice she had a gunshot wound in very nearly the same place as Anne, in the upper chest between the first and second rib thereabouts.
"How are you fine and she isn't?" he asked.
"The bullet missed the lung for me," Azuki replied. "She was not so lucky."
"What about Miss Duveau?"
"She did not make it. The surgery went bad."
Anne was going to take that hard. If she ever came around, that is.
If only Belette had trusted them to help clear out the patrols instead of forcing it all on Azuki, maybe it would've turned out differently. Instead of counting on the confusion and panic kicked up by all the guests, they should've aimed for extraction in the dead of the night. There were so many other possibilities, but this was what they were stuck with.
Azuki's hand started creeping downward, but Root stopped her.
"You really think now's the time?" he asked her.
"You are in pain, Mr. Root. If I trigger the release of endorphins, you will feel better."
"En-what now?"
"Endorphins," she repeated. Her eyebrows drew together briefly as she came up with the longer name. "En... endogenous opioid neuropeptides. It is like opium that your own body produces."
Root was in no state for all this.
"And where'd you learn that?"
"The Empire taught me many things, Mr. Root. Many things about the human body. To make me more effective."
Root was about to say, "Does that include what you did last night?", but that would be in poor taste. As the fragmented memories were coming together, he couldn't run away from it any longer.
Sitting up in spite of the pain, he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, muttering, "No no no no no..."
Azuki sat up as well, wincing a little as she did, and held his arm, nestling it between her breasts.
"What is it, Mr. Root?" she asked.
He showed her the silver band on his left hand and said, "I'm married for one thing. I've got a wife and kids now."
"And?" Azuki asked with disarming innocence.
"Is adultery not a thing where you're from?"
"It is. A woman must be true to her husband. If she is not, the husband may avenge his honor on her and the man with whom she dishonored him."
"What about husbands?"
Again, completely guileless, she repeated his question.
"What about husbands?"
Root shook his head. Different culture, different rules. He also realized that he didn't know exactly what Byrandian law had to say on the matter. It seemed like standard practice for the nobility to keep mistresses—even someone who appeared so devoted to his wife like King Charles—and there were plenty of noblewomen who openly paraded around their gallants, but surely the same standard didn't apply to commoners and even if it did, there was no way Trish would ever forgive him for this. His marriage, his family, all wrecked for a night he could barely remember.
"How'm I gonna explain this to her?" he asked himself.
Azuki didn't realize that she wasn't the one being asked and so she replied, "What do you need to explain?"
Root made a sweeping motion with his hand.
"This. It's not like I can keep it a secret from her. Somehow, she'll know. Women always seem to know."
"Why would you need to keep it a secret?"
"Do you not get that what we did was wrong?"
Azuki cocked her head curiously.
"Did I not satisfy you, Mr. Root?"
Root looked at her. How could any man not be satisfied, to the point of being ruined for all other women?
"It's not that," he said. "You... Look, I don't remember much of what happened last night, but being unsatisfied isn't part of it.
"You, you understand that marriage is between a man and a woman, right?"
"Anything else cannot be marriage," Azuki replied.
"So you said in Gandoh a woman has to be true to her husband and a man, at least, can't go around sleeping with another man's wife."
"I do not have a husband, Mr. Root," she said.
"Okay, that's not the problem. What if I told you a husband has to be true to his wife, too?"
"Is that how it is in your Byrandia?"
"It's supposed to be."
"Supposed to be..." Azuki said, mulling over the words. She then asked him, "Do your wife and your children have food, clothes, a roof over their heads?"
"Of course they do."
"Are you not the one who provides these things?"
"Well, I am, but—"
"Then you are doing your duty as husband. Has your... wife... has she born you sons?"
"No, I've got two girls."
Azuki frowned and said, "Your wife is not doing her duty."
Trish wouldn't like to hear that. She was no radical, but a progressive-minded woman like her would be quick to dispute that particular point.
Azuki leaned back into the head of the bed and touched her stomach.
"I would like to bear you a son, Mr. Root," she said. The slight smile that rose to her lips quickly faded, though. "They would never let me keep him. If he was even allowed to be born, they would take him and make a marmot out of him... like the others."
"The others?" Root asked.
"The Empire saved my life at a price, Mr. Root. They... studied me, tested me... took from me..."
Azuki gritted her teeth. Root had no intention of prying any further. He put his arm around her and held her. It wasn't much, but it was about all he could do for her. Azuki seemed to appreciate the gesture, leaning in to him and resting her head on his shoulder.
"You are kind, Mr. Root. You know I have loved you from the day we first met. You looked on my strangeness and there was no fear, no surprise. You always saw me as human. You are the only one who has."
How was Root supposed to respond to that? She had been holding a candle for him all this time. The years and everything the Empire did to her didn't change that. If anything, it only made those feelings stronger. How was he supposed to answer those feelings?
The smart thing would have been to put a stop to things before they went any farther, but either due to his lingering intoxication or the fact that his own feelings were that desperate to get out, he found himself being more honest than he had any business being.
"I've never forgotten you, Azuki," he said. "Hardly a day's gone by that I didn't regret what happened. We didn't know each other that long, but I felt something with you that I'd never felt before and I've never felt since. You don't know how hard it's been holding myself back all this time, ever since I saw you were still alive."
"It makes me happy to hear those words," Azuki said. "They are probably the happiest words I have ever heard or will ever hear."
The fact that her tone barely changed showed what the level of her happiest was. It made Root's heart ache. Thoughts of Trish and the girls faded from his mind as his only desire was to protect the woman in his arms.
He stroked her head. Her hair was so long and straight and black. So different from Trish's chestnut curls. And there she came back into his mind. What was he going to do?
What the hell, why not ask Azuki? She was a part of this, after all.
"What do you want, Azuki?"
"This moment," she replied. "I cannot expect anything more than this and it will pass soon enough."
The hits just kept on coming. Her wish was so simple. There was nothing he could say. If this moment was all she wanted, he'd let her have it. He didn't need to be burdening her with his problems. He'd figure something out. He'd face the consequences of his actions, both with Azuki and with Anne. God, he hoped Anne pulled through. If she didn't make it, he'd rather put a bullet through his head than face the King.
The door opened and in walked Lapin.
"I see you've been making the best of things, Colonel," he said, seemingly unfazed by what he saw.
Root thought about removing his arm from around Azuki, but what would it change? He might as well own it.
"What's the story?" he asked.
"We need to be moving soon," Lapin replied. "It's going to be difficult with the wounded we have."
"It's already cost us to get this far," Root said, thinking of Miss Duveau. "Is it safe to move Anne—Lieutenant Detrois?"
"It's that or risk capture. I certainly wouldn't expect such favorable conditions this time."
It might almost be worth it to ensure Anne got proper medical treatment. But before Root invested too much into that thought, another idea came to him.
"You got a rail map?" he asked.
"Of course," Lapin said. "It's in the other room."
"Could you get it?"
"If you've got a plan, the others should see it. They'd probably appreciate an appearance. You've been out for a while."
Although the hole in his leg was more than enough reason for him to stay where he was, he motioned to his naked body as the reason why a public appearance was ill-advised. Lapin responded by taking the two threadbare housecoats hanging off pegs by the door and tossing them his way. He then took the crudely constructed crutch leaning against the wall and handed it to Root.
Root grudgingly put on the housecoat. He hadn't intended for Azuki to come along, but when he saw her struggling to put her housecoat on, he stopped to help her out. She, of course, wasn't shy about being seen naked, but she at least had enough common sense to know it wasn't something you did in mixed company, unless it was a Gandohese hot spring, that is.
It was a little tricky balancing himself to stand up without putting any weight on his injured leg. Lapin made no move to help, almost as if it amused him to watch Root struggle. The crutch was just a single beam, so there was no handle like the usual split design. Wasn't anything in the way of padding for the crossbeam that went under the arm either. He was going to have to rig something up for future use.
They were taking refuge in a dosshouse as it provided cheap lodgings and the owners were known for looking the other way when it came to their tenants. There was actually supposed to be four of them to a room—though each room could barely hold two—, but Root's roommates obviously chose to be somewhere else last night.
Speaking of which, Sergeant Kranowitz was coming out of the WC right as Root was getting out into the hallway.
He glared at Lapin, grumbling, "Goddamn rabbit slinkin' in while I's takin' a piss." Then to Root, he said, "You shouldn't be up and about, sir. I was keepin' folks out, but—"
Root held up his hand and said, "It's alright, Kran. I was gonna hafta get up eventually."
In truth, he wished he'd stayed in bed. It was difficult to move about. Surely the hangover didn't help. Even though she had no business doing so considering her own injuries, Azuki was right there at his side supporting him. Sergeant Kranowitz made no comment about the two of them, didn't even show any change in expression. Of course, in the Army, these things weren't too unusual. Marital fidelity was harder to find than an early discharge.
Now, this particular dosshouse had the unusual luxury of a little parlor where the tenants could socialize and take their meals. This was where Lapin was leading them. In the parlor was Belette, Captain Tsai and the other Imperials, Lieutenant Juliard, and a few of Lapin and Belette's team members. None of them welcomed Root with especially friendly faces.
"Am I underdressed for the occasion?" Root asked.
No one commented. Not at first. It was Belette who eventually spoke up. A bullet had grazed the side of his head during the extraction, so he had it bound up in a bandage, but the wound was seeping. Probably if they had any spare bandages, he would change it out. Something for one of his boys to go out and acquire.
"You expectin' applause or somethin'?"
Under different circumstances, an ovation probably would be in order, but he didn't want to get into that at the moment.
"We're gonna be headin' out soon, right?" Root said. "I've got an idea, but I need to see a rail map. I heard you got one."
"I'm gettin' mighty tired a' you thinkin' you know what you're doin'," Belette said.
Root narrowed his eyes and growled, "Don't even start with me. You got the map?"
"Yeah, I got the gorram map," Belette grumbled back as he produced the rail map and spread it out on the coffee table.
"So where are we?" Root asked.
It was Lapin who helpfully pointed out the town they were in. The coffee table was too low for Root to reach while balancing on the crutch. It wasn't that easy to read either. Maybe his eyesight was going.
He traced the rail line and found what he was looking for.
"Here," he said. "Merdino."
Belette sniffed, "What of it?"
"Merdino is one of the stops on the Peace Line on the way to Arturo."
"And?"
"The Peace Line affords diplomatic immunity to its passengers. I've got the credentials to board and I can cover everyone here. Also, they've got a fully equipped medical car. Anne needs proper treatment and soon."
"'Anne'?" Belette asked scornfully. "Not 'Lieutenant Detrois'?"
Root sighed.
"There's no point in hiding it at this point," he said. "I think you've already guessed it, but Lieutenant Anne Detrois is really Princess Anne, who has been travelling incognito with us. Sergeant Eisenborg is her bodyguard Sir Willem van der Borg and the now deceased Corporal Pardot was her companion, Elisavet Duveau."
"And whose brilliant idea was that?"
"That doesn't matter right now," Root said. "Saving the Princess' life is our first priority."
"Saving our own gorram lives is our first fakkin' priority."
"We do the one by doing the other," Root replied. "And our best bet for both is to make for Merdino."
"He makes a good point," Lapin said. "Merdino's not that far."
Belette scowled and stared at the map a while before reluctantly admitting, "I'll be derned. He might actually have a point."
"Wonders never cease," Root said.
"It won't be easy movin' all these gorram people," Belette said.
"We still have both trucks?"
"We've got our milk truck," Lapin said. "Mr. Belette had to dispose of his vehicle after the extraction."
"I trust you can get other vehicles," Root said.
"Of course."
"Do you have the train schedules?"
"They're on the back," Belette said, turning over the map.
Although the Peace Line was primarily intended for government officials, a portion of seats were set aside for ordinary civilians to help offset the costs of operations, provided they could afford the tickets. If this wasn't the case, the Peace Line's schedule probably wouldn't have been printed on the map. Three trains made the circuit of the Peace Line's Grand Loop, which meant there were only a couple opportunities to board each month. This was where Root's plan might all be for nothing.
"What day is today?" Root asked.
"The 21st," Lapin said.
Root checked the northbound schedule. The soonest train leaving Merdino would be the 28th. He didn't want to have to wait a week if he could help it. What about southbound?
"Here we go," he said. "Southbound leaving Merdino on the 23rd at 2620."
"Southbound?" Belette asked. "That's the long gorram way 'round if we're goin' back to Saintcharles. Through Pala-fakkin'-tinia."
"The Pallies aren't after us," Root said.
"But Palatinia is a warzone," Lapin noted.
"We'll worry about that when the time comes. Right now we just need to get out of the country and the Peace Line is the safest way to do it."
"They're going to be guarding the stations."
"Obviously we're going to scope out the place before we move in," Root said.
"There's bound to be checkpoints going in and out of the city."
"I'm sure you've got something in mind for that, too."
"So you're just expectin' us to do all the fakkin' work?" Belette asked.
"You're the one who's been complaining about me butting into your business all this time," Root said. "Don't tell me you've changed your mind about all that."
Belette just scowled at Root for that. In an apparent move to head off a fresh argument, Lapin moved the conversation along.
"We need to do recon, but we don't want to be moving the Princess around any more than we have to," Lapin said. "Merdino's about a three-hour drive from here. I tell you what. Me and a couple of my boys'll head on out there and check things out. If I think we can make it, we'll all set out tomorrow."
"What if somethin' goes wrong?" Belette asked.
"If we're not back by noon tomorrow, expect the worst and plan accordingly."
"Sorry to have you do this," Root said.
"Whaddya mean, Colonel?" Lapin replied with a grin. "Honor, King and country. It's what I signed up for, isn't it?"
"Yeah, well, don't take any dumb risks out there."
"I wouldn't have lasted this long in my line of work if I did. Okay, so Merdino the day after tomorrow at 2620. We get our asses aboard and get the hell outta here."
"That's the plan," Root said.
"This had better fakkin' work," Belette grumbled.
"Have a little faith in our man the Colonel, Belette, me lad," Lapin said, slapping Belette on the back. "Damn waste of quality material stickin' him in PA all these years. He could've been one of us."
Root wasn't sure he liked that idea much and judging from the look on Belette's face, he didn't like it much either.
Lapin rested his hand on Root's shoulder as he moved to leave the parlor.
"Hold down the fort while I'm gone, Colonel," he said. "I can't make any promises, but I'll do my bit."
"That's all I can ask," Root replied.
"You leavin' already?" Belette asked.
"No time like the present," Lapin said. He turned and made a theatrical bow to the assembled members, telling them, "Fare thee well, ladies and gents. Keep your heads down and your noses clean. A little bit of rabbit's wisdom for you."
Lapin waved as he exited the parlor, then his teammates who were in the room followed after. It felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees in his absence. Root couldn't say he was a fan of all the chilly stares directed at him.
"If you are done with her, Colonel Maartens, I would like a word with Oberfähnrich Anju," Captain Tsai said.
"I will take Mr. Root back to his room first," Azuki said.
Captain Tsai's nostrils flared for a moment after getting a response other than a snappy "Aye-aye, ma'am," but before she could really let Azuki have it, Lieutenant Juliard stepped in and said, "Leave Colonel Maartens to me. I need to have words with him, too."
Azuki seemed like she was going to just flatly refuse, but instead she looked up to Root for directions. Root gave her a nod so that she would cede the floor rather than cause any trouble. Any more trouble, at least.
With some reluctance, Azuki stepped away from Root's side. She and Lieutenant Juliard exchanged glances before the Lieutenant grudgingly moved in to support Root.
"I suppose I can't have you falling down the stairs and breaking every bone in your body."
Her tone didn't make it sound like she found it that disagreeable.
"I wasn't plannin' on goin' downstairs, Lieutenant," Root said. "And you don't hafta help. Kran's right there."
Lieutenant Juliard blushed, as the idea hadn't occurred to her, apparently.
"Oh, ah, right... Sergeant Kranowik—"
"Kranowitz," Root corrected.
"Sergeant Kranowitz, help the Colonel to his room."
"Yes, ma'am," Sergeant Kranowitz replied, stepping in to serve as a far sturdier support than the waifish Lieutenant could ever hope to be.
They went back to Root's room and Sergeant Kranowitz helped Root get into bed with his leg propped up with all the care of a hospital orderly.
"You're a fair hand at this kinda stuff, Kran," Root said.
"My old man busted his leg once before I shipped out, sir," Sergeant Kranowitz said. "Mum was a wee thing, like the LT there. No way she could tend to 'im herself."
"Well, I'm sorry 'bout your dad's leg, but it sure helps me with mine."
"One experience builds on th'other, what my old man'd say."
"Sergeant, when you're done with that, would you mind stepping out of the room?" Lieutenant Juliard said.
Sergeant Kranowitz looked awkwardly between her and Root before saying, "Now, ma'am, the Colonel's wounded. You gotta let him pace hisself."
The last time Root had seen Lieutenant Juliard turn so red was when she got overheated at the hot spring.
"I-I-I'm not thinking anything of the sort, Sergeant! Out!"
Strictly speaking, Sergeant Kranowitz was supposed to defer to Root first, but survival instinct took precedence over military protocol.
"By your leave, sir, ma'am."
Sergeant Kranowitz then slipped out of the room without further delay, leaving Root alone with Lieutenant Juliard. He seemed to recall someone referring to her as General Boyer's pet kitten. She seemed more like a wildcat on the warpath at the moment. Root braced himself before she could get her claws into him.
Showing respectable restraint, the Lieutenant folded her arms and asked him, "Would you care to explain yourself, Colonel?"
"Well, my parents were simple folk. Dad was a travelling salesman and Mom was a schoolteacher—"
"You know we exactly what I want you to explain, Colonel!" Lieutenant Juliard snapped. "Let's start with the Gandee."
It wasn't like her to use a borderline slur like that. Just goes to show how angry she was.
"What do you want me to say?" Root asked. He picked up the bottle of hooch on the nightstand and swished around the contents a bit. "A bad mix of drugs, alcohol and a beautiful woman who's been wanting it for eleven years."
Lieutenant Juliard eyed his wedding ring and asked, "What about those eleven years?"
"Ten," Root corrected. "We've been married for ten."
"Really? That's your sticking point?"
"Do you honestly think I'd wreck my marriage if I was in my right mind?"
"I don't know. I'm having my doubts about you even knowing what that means."
"I'm not sayin' what I did was right or nothin', but I'm curious as to how this is any of your damned business."
"You... you're a representative of His Majesty and the Royal Army. You're supposed to comport yourself in a manner that befits that role."
"That's not it," Root said. "What's the real reason?"
All that fire the Lieutenant had stoked against Root faded as she shrank from the question.
"I'm from Bellaire in Merice," she said.
"What's that got to do with the price of tea in Soochian?"
Lieutenant Juliard glared at him.
"Where is your wife from?"
Root had to think about it for a moment.
"Oh, hey, she's from Bellaire, too."
"'Oh, hey,'" she repeated mockingly. "That's right. Patricia and my sister were classmates, best friends. She was as much a sister to me as my real sister. It because of her that I joined the Army."
"Trish was Air Force, though."
"Do you always have to have some little smart remark? That's not the important part."
"If you're so close to Trish, why haven't I ever seen you with her?"
"I fell out of touch with her when I joined the Army. I didn't even know she was in the Capital, or that you were her husband, until I was briefed about it before taking this assignment."
"I'd invite you over for dinner once we get back," Root said, "but I guess it's not gonna be much of a happy home anymore."
"That's your own fault," Lieutenant Juliard replied. She then paused. "Well, I mean, maybe there were extenuating circumstances if you were intoxicated..."
About the last thing Root expected was for her to start making excuses for him.
"I don't want to see Patricia hurt," she said. "Maybe... maybe if you didn't tell her..."
"Lyin' an' hidin's only gonna make it hurt worse," Root said. "Look, I'll take responsibility for what I've done. It's the best way I can do right by her." He sighed. "I reckon she'll kick me out. You mind if I crash on your couch when she does?"
"I don't want you anywhere near my couch."
She paused again, like she was thinking of something. Her cheeks flushed a bit and she shook her head as if to shake out the unwanted thoughts. It would've been smart to not prod at her, but apparently Root's capacity for doing the smart thing was impaired.
"Hey, hey, I said 'crash on your couch', not 'smash on your couch'."
Lieutenant Juliard blushed anew.
"Who, who said anything about that, you, you—"
Whatever epithet she was trying to summon failed to appear. She had this look of frustration that reminded Root of the one time Sara lost a footrace during the school sports day.
"I never wanted this," she muttered in a low voice. She then asked Root, "Do you do this to every woman you come across?"
"Do what?"
"Make them fall for you."
She promptly averted her eyes. Root could feel a headache coming on.
"Really? Now?"
"Do you think I'm happy about this? Why the hell should I... I... for some overweight middle-aged man who's married to the person I looked up to the most in the whole world?"
"Most people keep this sort of thing to themselves," Root said.
"I did! I was busy telling myself I was just confused. I don't have much experience with this sort of thing, so I figured it was just one big mistake."
"It's a mistake, I'll grant you, but how do you not have any experience?"
"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying you think I'm some sort of slut?"
"No, that's not it at all. Cute girl like you, surely you've had to beat the boys off with a stick."
If her blush was starting to fade, it came right back.
"There you go again. You think you can win over any girl with cheap compliments like that?"
"I'm not trying to win over anyone," Root said, "but lookin' at you, I'd say it's workin'."
"Why did this have to happen to me?"
"Why does anything happen to anyone? Is this what you called me out for, to chew me out over what happened with Azuki and then complain about her beating you to the punch?"
Apparently her embarrassment had run its course as she didn't even get tongue-tied this time.
"You're right. I've let myself get sidetracked. It's about the Princess. Are you sure you should've given out her identity like that?"
Root shook the bottle again and said, "I may not be in any condition to make optimal judgments, but that needed to be done. The people riskin' their lives for us need to understand what's at stake."
"It might have the opposite effect of what you're intending."
"It might," Root admitted.
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"You damn well better believe it bothers me. If I thought it would save her, there's not a whole helluva lot I wouldn't do."
"Does that include turning us in to the Malvinans?"
"I've considered it. If I thought I could count on them, I might even had done it, even if it meant we all get our necks stretched in the exchange. You ever seen a hangin', Juliard?"
"No."
"I have. A whole village lynched and left swingin' for us to find. Two kinds of killin' the Marsoukis see as cursed. Burnin' an' hangin', 'specially if they leave the bodies out. The way they saw it, they were damnin' those people's souls, killin' 'em like that. Men, women, an' children, jus' 'cause they we're cooperatin' with us."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"To impress on you how far I'd be willin' to go for Anne. An' it's not just that she's the King's daughter. I've known that girl since she was eight years old. I've watched her grow up. I love her like she was my own kid."
"Like your own kid, eh?" Lieutenant Juliard said skeptically. "She definitely doesn't act like you're her father."
"Don't even start with that."
Thankfully, Lieutenant Juliard didn't pursue that angle of attack any further. Instead, she switched gears and asked him, "Do you really think this Peace Line plan will work?"
"If I didn't think it'd work, I wouldn't have suggested it."
"How are we going to get by security?"
"That depends on the security. I can't really make any plans without knowing what I'm up against."
"Worst-case scenario?"
"The worst-case scenario is us where security is so on point that we can't even get into the city. The plan'll be busted before it can even start."
"What can we do to improve our chances?"
"Rest up. Conserve your energy while we wait on Lapin to come back with some intel."
"Rest? That's it?"
"If things get... active out there, you're gonna be thankful for every ounce of energy you've got."
"Speaking from experience?" she asked.
"Speaking from experience."
"Then I guess I should defer to the expert."
"That's usually a sound policy."
"You should be resting, too," she said. "You've got even more reason for it, being wounded and all."
"I plan on it."
"And no more... nocturnal activities."
She started blushing again. Root had to wonder if that got tiring after a while.
"I'll see what I can do," he replied.
"I mean it," Lieutenant Juliard said, seeming to think he was taking things too lightly. "It's bad enough you betrayed Patricia once. If you do it again, I'll never forgive you."
"I'm not really lookin' for you to forgive me, but alright."
"You... You're so... so... frustrating."
"I get that a lot."
"Yeah, well, do you get this a lot?"
Like a bird of prey swooping in, Lieutenant Juliard closed the distance between them, seized Root by the ears and kissed him. It was a clumsy sort of amateur kiss made worse by the fact that it was entirely one-sided. Maybe if it was sufficiently disappointing, she wouldn't pull a stunt like this again.
"Well?" she asked when she broke off the kiss.
"Well, what?" he asked in turn.
Root did feel a bit guilty about hurting her feminine pride like that, but where he failed with Azuki, he could decisively put a stop to things here. Sure enough, she had that look of frustration from before, mixed in with a few different flavors of shame and regret. She started tearing up and at this point she could either let all those emotions collapse in on her or she could release them.
She chose the latter.
She slapped Root and stormed out of the room without even taking a moment to appreciate her handiwork. And that settled that. Maybe.
With Lieutenant Juliard gone, he leaned back into the headrest. He wanted to check up on Anne, but his leg was really acting up at this point and he just wanted to try sleeping it off.
The door opened and in walked Azuki. Root wasn't sure if he was happy to see her or not. Actually, that wasn't true at all. Rather, it was a matter of whether he should've been happy to see her or not.
"Hello, Mr. Root," she said.
"Hello, Azuki," he replied. "How did your little chat with Captain Tsai go?"
She touched her reddened cheek and said, "About as well as things went with you."
Root touched his own cheek where Lieutenant Juliard slapped him.
"Is striking an officer not against military law in the Empire?"
"It is," Azuki replied, "which is why I did not strike back."
Fair enough.
"So what brings you here?" Root asked.
"You, Mr. Root."
"Now, Azuki, we've been over this. What we did, we can't do it again."
"You have said it, but I do not understand it. Do you not want me?"
Telling her no as a way to shoo the dog might have been effective, but Root couldn't bring himself to do it. The thought of hurting her was worse than his fear of the consequences.
"I just want to get some sleep," he said.
"They say a man sleeps best with a woman at his side. Now, come, Mr. Root. Lie down."
He couldn't muster the energy to argue with her. As he was lowering himself down, Azuki slipped out of her housecoat and climbed into bed beside him.
"You always sleep like this?" Root asked. "People are gonna get the wrong idea."
"I do not care what others think," Azuki replied. "Only what you think, Mr. Root. Are you unsatisfied?"
Root's looked down the length of her body and said, "Folks can call me a lot of things, but right now, 'unsatisfied' isn't of 'em."