Page 7 of To Save a Kingdom

Glaring at the concoction, she opened her mouth and poured the dregs down.

Take that.

Her stomach roiled, a sudden burst of nausea rising over the back of her throat with a sour aftertaste. Perhaps she should have had something to eat, even if everything Princess’ new head cook prepared was too rich and spicy for her tastes.

Her gut heaved as she shoved herself to her feet, her eyes snapping to the door. If she hurled in here, her troops might lose their respect for her. A general not respected by their soldiers was dead on the battlefield.

She may not want the title, but she had no desire to be responsible for needless fatalities through her own irresponsibility.

The floor rocked beneath her as she strode to the door, only a little wobble in her gait. Warmth spread through her gut at the accomplishment. As long as no one was watching too closely, they’d never realize how much she’d had.

Her shoulder slammed into the door frame, throwing off her balance as she tumbled outside. She stumbled to the right—the direction she’d been intending to go, anyway—and around the darkened edge of the building out of the sight of prying eyes.

Collapsing to her knees, her stomach heaved. She vomited everything she’d drank that afternoon onto the flagstones in front of her. It was best she hadn’t eaten, after all. Spicy food always burned more coming back up than it did going down.

When her body had calmed, she coughed, spitting out the last dregs of bile. Wiping the back of her hands across her mouth, she glanced over her shoulder.

Good. No one had followed her or been privy to her momentary lack of control.

Her head pounded, the too-familiar pressure between her temples indicating the earliest stages of a hangover. Next, her vision would go wonky—double, with sparkles of glitter in the periphery. But the distorted sight was better than what would come afterward—the debilitating headache, muscle aches, dizziness and nausea.

The sun was low enough in the sky that she could safely take a nap and sleep the worst of it off well before fourth bell, when she was scheduled to go on watch. She’d never fall asleep in the barracks at this time of day, but this little patch of dirt off to the side would be comfortable, and away from her mess. As a soldier, she’d slept on worse.

Crawling to the strip of hardy grass that had forced its way up through a few of the broken cobblestones, she curled onto her side and closed her eyes.

An instant later, the large bell at the top of the gatehouse started clanging, each frantic peal slamming a spike behind her eyes. Heaving herself to her knees, Zadé pressed the palms of her hands into both eyes.

By all that was holy…

She cracked her lids open. Everything was black, like her mood.

Her left shoulder ached, like she’d been sleeping on it incorrectly for hours.

Blast it. Peering at the sky, she blinked at the crescent moon shedding its silvery light on the courtyard. At least there was only one moon—her vision was no longer doubled.

She’d passed out and slept through the rest of the afternoon and sunset. Worse, she was late to her shift.

Rubbing the back of her hand against her lips, she winced at the impression of grass imprinted on the side of her face. The only fix was waiting for the imprints to fade. Hopefully no one would notice in the darkness.

The bell clanged again, shouts rising in every direction.

Her heart skipped a beat, heat exploding through her chest. Something was wrong, and she wasn’t at her post. Valek.

She heaved to her feet. Forget her face, forget the headache. She had to find out what was going on. If Princess’ kingdom was under attack, Zadé was needed at the walls.

She tested her knees, making sure they could hold her weight, then strode into the courtyard as quickly as she could trust her legs to take her.

Snagging a young guard’s arm as he jogged past, she stepped into his path. “What’s going on?”

Swallowing hard enough to be visible, the elf saluted. “General! Prisoners have escaped. They’re armed and dangerous.”

Zadé’s stomach unknotted. It wasn’t an invasion, just a prison break. Something for the rank-and-file to handle. A bit of the guilt from sleeping through her shift evaporated.

At her nod, the soldier turned to continue on his way.

“Wait.”

He froze at her words, halfway through a step. “Yes, General?”