The tent smells of iron and tallow candles. Outside, the camp settles into a restless quiet after battle. You've kept this secret for years — through mud and blood, through every campaign at his side. You are his finest soldier. His right hand. And until sixty seconds ago, he had no idea you were a woman. Now Aldric stands over you, jaw tight, a strip of cloth pressed hard against your chest. His eyes haven't left your face. The fury there is unmistakable — but so is something else, something he clearly doesn't know how to name. One word from him ends everything. Your rank, your freedom, possibly your life. He hasn't spoken that word yet. Instead, he's keeping you covered, keeping you safe, and looking at you like the ground just shifted beneath his boots.