Anna walked beside Kyren towards the centre of the camp, where a large bonfire had been lit.
Golden flames rose and crackled, casting warm light across the open ground and chasing away the edges of night.
As they approached, her gaze lifted instinctively to the blue banner fluttering high above them.
A griffin spread its wings proudly across the fabric — the coat of arms of the Duchy of Gerhard, symbolising strength, courage, and dominion.
Tonight was her first official introduction to Kyren's men, and despite her composed expression, a faint nervousness tightened her chest.
The knights and soldiers had gathered around the bonfire for dinner. Some sat upon logs, others on the ground, armour loosened, and weapons set aside but still within reach.
She recognised several faces — men from the infirmary, and those present during the notorious clash between Eric and Noah.
The distinction between ranks was clear. The knights wore blue surcoats bearing their insignia, while the soldiers wore simpler tunics marked with the border patrol badge on their chests. Fewer soldiers were present, temporarily assigned from the patrol station to reinforce the unit.
Being the only woman, and a civilian at that, she could not deny the initial prickle of unease. For a fleeting moment, she felt like an outsider stepping into a world not meant for her.
Yet in the days prior, walking through the camp with Noah and visiting the infirmary, she had grown accustomed to the rhythm of this place.
Most of the men were reserved, some even distant, but none had been disrespectful. A few dared polite conversation; the rest simply observed from afar.
A wooden table had been arranged near the fire, laden with dishes and pitchers. Lanterns and torches burned steadily, brightening the gathering.
When Kyren and Anna approached, every man rose to his feet at once and bowed.
"Sit here, Anna," he said, guiding her to a chair beside him.
Then he addressed the gathered men.
"Men, this is my wife, Lady Anna Raychard."
The firelight flickered across their faces as they looked towards her. Anna inclined her head slightly, masking her nerves with a gentle smile.
"Treat her with respect and honour," Kyren added with a calm tone but unmistakably firm.
Everyone understood it was not a suggestion.
Before silence could settle too long, Eric rose to his feet and raised his mug.
"Commander! A toast to your marriage!"
Cheers erupted instantly.
"Aye!"
Glasses were lifted high, voices echoing into the night.
Kyren rose as well, lifting his glass, and Anna followed.
"To the Commander and his bride!" Eric declared.
"To the Commander and his bride!" the rest shouted in reply.
They drank, applause and laughter followed. The stiffness dissolved quickly, replaced by the familiar ease of camaraderie.
Anna brought the cup to her lips. The liquid was warm and faintly bitter, tasting herbal rather than fermented. She glanced into it curiously.
"It's tea," Kyren murmured beside her.
"Tea?" she asked back.
"You're not permitted alcohol in your current condition. Rafe made that clear. So tonight, we drink tea."
"You too?" she asked in surprise.
He nodded.
"But why?"
"Because you're my wife."
The simplicity of his answer eased her heart. Kyren always had his own quiet ways of supporting her.
It reminded her of the bitter medicine he used to swallow before her, pretending it tasted pleasant to coax her into drinking it. Swayed by his steady expression, she had fallen for it every time.
Tonight, the tea, though medicinal, was gentler than she expected.
"Thank you," she said.
Anna's gaze drifted around the gathering again. Rafe and Ayden were seated nearby, engaged in conversation. Eric was having a friendly banter with his companions, and the other men were enjoying the food and drinks.
Since no one paid close attention to Anna, Kyren felt very relieved. It seemed they understood not to overstep boundaries.
The dinner was lively. Yet one figure was absent.
"Where is Sir Brooks?" she asked, scanning the crowd.
"He's not here. I assigned him elsewhere," Kyren replied casually.
Her brows drew together.
"Did you send him away because of the fight?"
He huffed.
"Of course not. I require him for another matter. I told you he was only your temporary escort."
"Right." Her shoulder eased, and she returned her attention to the dinner.
"There will be new escorts assigned to you," Kyren added. "They will present themselves later."
She nodded.
Anna's attention shifted to the generous portion placed before her. It was far larger than she was accustomed to, and she doubted she could finish even half.
"Why aren't you eating?" Kyren asked, noticing her hesitation. "Is it not to your liking?"
"It's not that. The food is just too much," she admitted. "I can't possibly eat all of them."
"You're too thin," he said. "Eat."
Without warning, he cut a piece of meat and brought it to her lips.
Startled but compliant, she accepted it.
The meat was tender, rich with seasoning and smoke. Her eyes widened as she savoured the buttery flavour.
"It's delicious!"
Kyren smirked and fed her another bite, followed by roasted potatoes.
A soft sound of approval escaped her before she could stop herself.
"The food here is far better than anything I've had," she confessed.
In Ardel, her meals had often been bland and restrained — justified under the excuse of her frail health. Only later had the dishes improved, but never quite like this.
Since she had rarely been allowed proper meals, Anna often hid in the library, quietly reading cookbooks instead. She memorised recipes she had never tasted, imagining flavours she had never known.
"It wasn't always this good," Kyren admitted. "But when we're dispatched for long periods, the men learn quickly. They've become rather skilled at turning simple rations into something worth eating."
"I wish I could cook like them. I always wanted to try."
"You have never cooked?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"I was never allowed. But I memorised many recipes."
Kyren chuckled softly.
"I see… Judging by how much you enjoy this, you must have grown up with a dreadful cook."
"I wasn't permitted to eat much," she replied quietly. "They said it wasn't good for me."
"They?" His gaze shifted to her. "Your family?"
Family…
If they had truly cared whether she ate or not, it wouldn't have ached this much.
The 'they' she spoke of were the healers and maids assigned to watch over her, not the ones who should have cared most.
Only Ryan had quietly sneaked in small treats for her—sweet pastries wrapped in cloth, candied fruits tucked into his sleeves—until Queen Clarice discovered it.
The queen harshly reprimanded him for breaking palace discipline, punishing him in front of the attendants as an example.
Even then, Anna understood that it was never truly about rules or propriety.
It was just another excuse her stepmother used to drive a wedge between them.
But what would be the point of explaining that?
She lowered her eyes instead.
Kyren studied her for a brief moment before letting it pass.
"Then I'll finish what you can't," he said, sliding the platter towards himself.
Relief softened her features immediately.
As always, he eased the tension without pushing for answers, as if he knew her heart well.
A small, grateful smile curved her lips, and she quietly resumed her meal.
Then—
A horn split the air.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Every man froze.
Kyren was already on his feet as he ordered, "Arm yourselves. Move."
The ease of dinner vanished instantly. Armour clattered, and boots pounded across the ground.
He turned to Anna.
"There's an emergency. Return to the tent."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
"Are you leaving?"
"Do not think of anything. Just go and stay safe."
His tone was firm — protective, not dismissive.
She nodded and hurried away.
As she glanced back, a messenger had already reached him, delivering urgent words.
Kyren's expression darkened. This was no minor disturbance.
Anna returned to the tent, the warmth of the bonfire replaced by the chill of uncertainty.
She clasped her hands together and prayed.
Somehow, she knew the night would not pass quietly.
And once again, she would be waiting.