Chapter 29

Head hanging low, I walk from orientation into the crowd of soldiers that were just released from formation. My goal since I don’t want to return to my tent on account of Kennedy is to go to the infirmary tent.

Thankfully, the first person I asked took one look at me and walked me right to the entrance. Based on how concerned they were, I guess there’s a lot of blood.

After thanking them again, I head into the massive tent. The medicinal scent settles my frayed nerves since it reminds me of home. Back when my dad was still alive, our house always used to smell like this.

Within the disorderly tent, my eyes spot a chair sitting all alone next to the window. Despite my best efforts, blood is still dripping to the ground as make my way to the chair and take a seat. Ahh, and here I thought my first day was rough.

“The shelf to your left. Third row, all the way to the right. Those are the pain meds.” The man’s voice startles me, causing my eyes to fly open.

Koa walks from around the corner with his brother close behind. There’s a purple bruise on the bottom of Coa’s lip that wasn’t there before.

“Why are you two here?”

“Three.” Onda pops his head out from behind one of the shelves that’s piled with medical supplies. “Are you alright?”

Coa’s bruise is nothing compared to the marks on Onda. There’s bruising around both his eye, the back of his neck. And his awkward movements tell me that there might be something wrong with his legs too. Or maybe it’s his feet.

“Em, I think if there’s anyone you should be worried about, it’s yourself. Have you looked in a mirror?”

“Nh. I had a rough day.” I go to rub my forehead to work off the drowsiness threatening to take hold but think better of it. Moving my body will just cause more pain.

“We saw. What did you say to set him off like that?” Koa asks as he takes in the questionable amount of blood that is covering me.

“He asked about my family, and that led to a bit of banter. Then I called him an asshole which caused this.”

Koa clarifies since he can’t believe what I just admitted. “You called him a—?”

“Nh. I did indeed call him that. It accidently slipped out.”

“Well, that was a choice.” Onda supplies while ruffling through a box. “Do you need help with something?”

“No. I’ll just wait for the doctor.

“Over there.” Koa points behind us to a pile of boxes filled with paper and medical supplies that seem, for the most part, untouched.

With some effort, I manage to sit up in the chair and turn my body in the direction he pointed to. Koa motions for me to look around the boxes, so I stand up to walk over to see an old man curled up on a self-made mattress sleeping soundly. So much so, I question if he’s alive.

“I’ve seen him walk from one end of the tent to the other once. But other than that, he’s never treated a single patient on his own. If you need to get patched up, then you’ll have to rely on yourself,” Coa explains.

I’m in disbelief at the lack of organization at this camp. Their orientation for new recruits was terrible. Most of the briefing was set up for commoners. When I asked them to clarify what I should be aware of as a noble in the military, they told me to ask the royals or nobles in my tent. As in Kennedy, no thank you. And now, there’s not even a doctor.

“Is there a back-up doctor? Maybe an apothecary?” I try.

Onda walks back with whatever he was looking for. His answer doesn’t surprise me. “The apothecary is running around doing basically anything the high-ranking nobles and royals ask him to do. The poor guy never gets any breaks.”

Holding my hands out in surrender, I go to sit back in my chair, but Coa took it from me. Not willing to search for an alternative, I plop down on the ground. “I’ll just wait until it heals.”

“Sure you don’t at least want pain medication,” Onda asks as he takes some himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll heal up in a couple hours. But, if you have the time,” —I peel off one of my scales— “can you explain to me how this place works?

“What’s a chore chart? Is there a way to change tents? And what are the chances that I just brought myself a one-way ticket to the front lines with my slip of the tongue earlier?”

“The chore chart is a list that talks about your assignments. Tent arrangements are permanent, and yes. Your overall performance will affect your squadron placement.”

Tilting my head up, I make eye contact with Coa. Everything he said technically answers all my questions, but it’s not exactly helpful.

Coa’s satisfied expression tells me that I’m not getting anything else out of him. So, I turn to Koa and Onda and hold out my hand as if saying, your turn.

Onda starts. “Technically, squadron placement depends heavily on how much money you have. So, it depends on your family’s monetary contributions.”

Of course it does. I knew that would be the case, but I thought as a noble, even a fake one, I would get some grace in that area. Seems that no matter the place or title, it always comes down to money.

“None. There will be no sort of support.”

“Then prey to your Divinity that you’ll get lucky then.” Koa offers. Unfortunately, his brother removes even that possibility for me.

“Her Divinity is Chaos remember. If it’s up to him, there’s no way she’s not going to the front lines. Choas thrives on the battlefield.”

Looks of pity are sent my way, but I don’t need it. I need money, and lots of it. And so, I begin to plan out operation, get a job to pay for the job that I’m not getting paid for.