Enlistment

“Okay,” Emelia replied, her voice rising an octave higher in surprise. Her mouth hung slightly ajar as she tried to figure out the intricacies of what the man had just said. “Sorry, you brought it up?” She asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

He pushed his shoulders back and squared his chin, his voice booming. “This war has taken so many of our men. Good men,” he said solemnly. He stood tall, his hands resting firmly on his hips and his gaze locked on hers. “We could use a woman of your caliber backing up our frontlines.”

Emelia’s mouth dropped open as she stared at him in shock. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Are you asking me to join the regiment?” she asked in a small voice.

Lassiter inhaled, the effort of mustering courage evident on his face. His voice was quiet but determined when he spoke, “I’m not asking. I’m hoping.”

Emelia’s heart thumped against her chest as she weighed her options. Was this something she wanted to do? To be a soldier. Could she really commit to this life-altering path? She paused, her lips parted as she searched for the right words. “I’ll think about it,” Emelia replied hesitantly.

The Lieutenant’s voice cracked as he said, “That’s all I ask.” He tucked his helmet under his arm and sprinted across the field, shouting orders as he went and urging his troops to move faster.

Moments later, Emelia slowly pushed the two mahogany castle doors open and stepped into the entrance hall. She turned just in time to see Leon walking toward her, dressed in a knight’s regal silver and black armor. His tall, stocked frame was intimidating, and Emelia’s heart raced faster as he walked closer. His sword, radiating power, clanged against his hip plate, glinting as it caught the light from the chandeliers in the hallway. Emblazoned on his chest plate was the crest of Iris, and its intricate details boldly announced his unwavering loyalty. As she beheld his commanding presence, Emelia felt a thrill pass through her; perhaps the other women in town were right after all - there was something undeniably attractive about a man in uniform.

A hush suddenly fell upon the room when Leon stopped before Emelia. Her heart began to beat uncontrollably against her ribcage. Her breathing became labored, and warmth began spreading throughout her body. She tried to appear unrattled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear and mustering a jovial tone. “Well, if it isn’t King Leon the Great.”

Leon’s face lit up, “Okay, spill it. How’d you find out about that name?” he said, reaching for the bag of apples she carried. The servant stepped forward to take the bag as Leon looked expectantly for her answer.

“The soldiers out front,” she smiled, “They told me a lot of stories. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Leon’s bright smile faded, and a shadow passed over his face. He shook his head slowly, “I don’t know.” he said, his lips pulled tight in a thin line. His eyes were unfocused for a moment as he thought about the untold stories. He looked back up and met her gaze. “I wasn’t deliberately trying to keep it from you. I just try to keep that stuff on the battlefield and not bring it home.”

Emelia’s eyes softened as she looked at him. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she said, “I understand that, but I have a feeling Leon the Great won’t be a secret for much longer.”

Leon gently pulled Emelia close and pressed his warm lips to her forehead. He breathed her in, and with a tender smile, he said, “I think you’re right.”

Emelia stepped back, “By the way,” she said, her voice wavering, “they asked if I would consider joining the regiment.”

Leon’s hands slid away from her waist, and he took a step back as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He searched her eyes for an answer, “What? Who?” he asked, his voice tense.

Emelia cleared her throat, “Lieutenant Lassiter,” she said, studying Leon’s stony face for even a hint of a reaction.

Leon paused, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. His brow furrowed as he slowly shook his head, “No.” His voice was barely audible, yet so filled with conviction it seemed to reverberate in the air.

“What do you mean, no?” Emelia replied, her voice shaky and her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stepped back. Her face was pinched with disbelief, and her brows were drawn together in confusion.

“Exactly that. You can’t join the regiment. I won’t allow it.” Leon said as he strode away from her, attempting to leave the castle.

She called out to him, “You said that I’m the best archer you’ve seen,” Emelia stated proudly.

Leon paused with his hand on the door handle and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze was gentle and tired, his breath shallow. He could feel the weight of the conversation between them, and he chose his words carefully. “You are,” he whispered, almost a plea.

Emelia slowly lifted her foot and took one step forward toward Leon. Her heart felt like it might escape her chest, thudding like a drum in her ears. She barely managed a whisper, “And you also said you trust me with your life.”

Leon slowly turned around, and his previously furrowed brow had softened. His hand rose to his chest, and his piercing gaze held hers. “I do,” he said softly.

Emelia felt her eyes sting and her throat tighten. She raised her hands in frustration, then let them fall helplessly as she shrugged, “Then what’s the problem?”

Leon stepped forward so that their faces were just inches apart, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. He tenderly cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone, and her eyes fluttered in bliss, “I can’t lose you,” he said in a hushed voice, “I won’t let you be taken away from me by this war. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

A bitterness filled Emelia’s voice as she barked at Leon, “And you think I want to wait around to see if you make it back?” Her gaze had fallen upon the jagged scar that lined his jaw. “They told me how you got this scar,” she said as her fingertips gently traced over the line of his jaw. “That Alana soldier got lucky because an archer missed his mark.” She looked into his eyes with a fierce protectiveness and declared, “If I were there, that Alana soldier wouldn’t have been able to hurt you, let alone raise his sword.”

Leon was mesmerized by the blazing determination in Emelia’s eyes. Her unwavering resolve felt like a sea of hands anchoring him in place. He slowly reached up and tenderly took her hand in his, gazing into her eyes before tenderly pressing his lips to the center of her open palm. “Okay,” he whispered reluctantly, intertwining their fingers and lightly caressing her skin. “But you must commit to all training, sparring, sword-smithy, reconnaissance, and defense. I want you prepared for any eventuality.”

Emelia let out a sigh, and a small smile crept onto her lips. She looked into his eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up, and confidently proclaimed, “I’m ready.”