Page 84 of The Iron Hex

“Do you know where Sir Jack has gone? I wanted to consider him for a future expedition I’ve been tasked with, but I haven’t seen him since the attack. I wanted to make sure he hadn’t flamed out.”

Commander Bartholomew looked at Rhona, his expression pinched and a strange look in his icy blue eyes as he laced his fingers in front of him. Rhona’s heart started beating a furious rhythm, the fear that all soldiers worried about creeping up on her, that she may have lost a compatriot.

“Sir Jack was sent on a mission outside of the capital,” Commander Bartholomew finally spoke after a lengthy and uncomfortable pause, a ring of a lie in his words as they came out of his mouth.

Rhona hadn’t heard about any expeditions in the past week. Alarm bells set off in her head, adrenaline coursing through her system. Rhona knew she needed to keep calm, pretend like she believed what she was being told for her own safety.

“How exciting!” she answered, smiling brightly. The grin was plastered to her face, and she could almost feel her eye twitching from the strain.

“It is truly a privilege to see our retinue grow and succeed.” The commander nodded as he unclasped his hands and sharply turned his body toward the map of Astra on the table behind him. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“No, Commander, and I could not agree more. The Iron Retinue’s growth is a point of pride for all of us in the Iron Empire.” Rhona nodded before turning and exiting the office, her smile dropping as soon as she was out the door. She walked quickly and with little thought through the hallways, trying to desperately maintain composure as she nodded to each of the members of the Iron Retinue in passing.

Before she knew it, Rhona found herself outside of Lady Maeve’s apartments, standing motionless in front of her door. Would it even be appropriate for her to call on the lady? Ever since working with the witch, Rhona had been questioningwho she could trust in the Iron Retinue. Mere weeks ago she would have trusted what Commander Bartholomew said, but now she was questioning everything.

Rhona knocked on the door, feeling the compulsion to leave before anyone answered so she wouldn’t experience rejection from the lady she so wished to have approval from. As she made to turn and run, the door clicked open and she heard a familiar twinkling voice.

“Sir Rhona?” Maeve asked. “Is everything okay?” She wore a simple gown, nothing like what she usually wore to traipse in the gardens. Rhona liked it even better than the opulence Maeve usually showed the world; it made the lady feel like someone Rhona could possibly be on the same level as.

“I was hoping you’d have time to talk, but it’s completely fine if you’re otherwise occupied.” Rhona waved her hand and began to turn away, not giving Maeve the chance to tell her to leave.

“Quite the opposite. Come in.” Maeve opened the door and motioned Rhona inside.

The apartments had been well decorated after the fire in the Heathecote manor, and Rhona was increasingly grateful in that moment that Lady Maeve had insisted on her own private apartments away from the prying eyes of the other members of the Heathecote family.

Maeve gestured to a pink settee beside the fire for Rhona to sit before bringing over an extra cup for the pot of tea that sat on the table next to it.

“What brings you to my lovely stone-walled quarters today?” Maeve said, picking up a dainty floral teacup and sipping from it.

“Uh,” Rhona stuttered. “I-it’s nothing important.”

Maeve looked at Rhona, curiosity in her eyes. Rhona watched her gently place the cup down before she leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hand, head cocked slightly to the side. “You’re not very good at asking for help, are you?” Maeve asked, a smirk on her full lips.

“I—” Rhona started, involuntarily leaning back.

“I can see it in your eyes. Something happened, and you don’t know how to talk about it,” Maeve pushed.

“Sir Jack has gone missing and I’m worried because I think the commander was just lying to me about where he went,” Rhona blurted out before she could think twice.

Maeve gently picked the teacup up again, a slight clanking noise reverberating through the now-quiet room as she did. She leaned back, cradling the cup closely in her hands as if it was going to warm her up. “You think he was taken somewhere, like Saoirse might have been?” Maeve pondered.

“We don’t even know if Saoirsewastaken anywhere,” Rhona said, debating whether or not she should pick up the teacup in front of her.

“But we have a reasonable hunch,” Maeve countered, fingernails tapping her cup gently as she thought.

“Sir Jack was fairly fresh to the Iron Retinue, so it seems strange to me that they’d send him out of the capital already,” Rhona continued.

“I don’t think your intuition is wrong,” Maeve said. “At all.”

It wasn’t until that pause that Rhona realized how tired Maeve looked, how unwell. “I am so selfish to have not asked, how are you?” Rhona questioned, now worried she’d invaded Maeve’s space as she was recovering from illness.

“I don’t lookthattired, do I?” Maeve chuckled, leaning farther back into her settee and taking a sip of her tea.

“I apologize if that was offensive,” Rhona said, putting her hands up and kicking herself internally. She was so bad at this, at talking to anyone that wasn’t in the Iron Retinue—this was why she didn’t have friends. Blurting out that someone looked terrible was not considerate, especially when Maeve didn’t even look terrible... just tired. Goodness, she hoped Maeve didn’t think that Rhona thought she looked bad.

Maeve laughed instead. “Please Rhona, relax.”

Rhona just clamped her mouth shut. If she said nothing, she couldn’t say anything wrong.