Page 151 of The Infernal Battalion

“Not every soldier,” Winter said. “Most of the ones I’ve known would probably be more worried about food and wine than baths.”

“Fair enough.”

Winter looked away as Sothe stripped off her leggings. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For... well, for avoiding you, to be honest. I’ve been trying to make a decision, and it’s been... difficult.”

“It’s all right,” Winter said. “I haven’t exactly been a social butterfly.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” There was the creak of a chest, and a rustle of cloth.

“If you like.”

“You seem to have given up your male disguise.”

“I...” Winter hesitated. “Alex and Abraham already knew, and I didn’t count on running into anyone from Vordan. It seemed easier.”

“Then you plan to resume it? Once we get back to Vordan City?”

“I’ll have to,” Winter said.

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not really a matter of wanting,” Winter said. “I started pretending to be a man so I could get into the army. After that it just kind of... kept going.”

“But the Vordanai army includes women now. You could, in theory, reveal yourself.” The bed creaked as Sothe sat down. “I’m dressed, by the way.”

Winter turned to face her, taking the same sideways seat in the chair she had earlier. Sothe had changed into a long, loose shirt and trousers. All in black, of course. I wonder if she ever wears any other color?

“I could,” Winter admitted. “But I’ve fooled a lot of people for a long time. They might not be happy about it.”

“Who? Raesinia knows. I assume your officers in the Second Division do.”

“Some of them,” Winter said. “Cyte and the Girls’ Own.”

“Then whose reaction worries you? The other generals’?”

“I suppose it’s mostly Marcus,” Winter said. “He’s... a little old-​fashioned at times.”

“I suspected as much,” Sothe said, crossing her arms.

“Why? Is it important?”

“In a way.” Sothe sighed. “I find myself in a complicated position.”

“That involves me?”

“Indeed. I have information that...” She broke off. “How much do you remember about your past?”

“My past?” Winter said, now thoroughly confused. “You mean Mrs. Wilmore’s? The Prison? I assume you know I was there.”

Sothe nodded. “What about before that?”

“Nothing,” Winter said. Fire. But that was only a dream, or the memory of the dream of a frightened little girl.