Bare Your Teeth, Wicked Ones

19. Arguments & Viscera

Charmaine

Montgomery required Charmaine's flames for a nasty wound a soldier received from fighting with another over trivial matters. One man commented on another man's mother. Charmaine paid little attention to the story he shared. They were typically all of the same variety; one soldier spoke idiotically, and another responded with equal stupidity. A fist was thrown and the high tension forever staining the camp exploded into a mess that those of the medical tent had to take care of. Nothing different than usual.

Once the fool had been sent away with a new burn scar, Charmaine had used more force than she meant to, she returned to William. He had yet to finish his task of ensuring medical packs were prepared for officers. In the chance of an attack, they grabbed packs and set to the field. who was finishing up his tasks. Perhaps he took a short break, regardless, she had paid attention to what Montgomery spoke of and had news to share.

"Montgomery spoke of Grand Mages from Heign paying the troops a visit. There are rumors that they have discovered a spell, something to help with the war effort," Charmaine explained when entering the tent.

"Is that so?" William hummed and opened the last crate to inspect. A red tint along his neck caught her attention. Charmaine approached, then a soft scent strangled her nostrils. A familiar aroma, calling to her, yet she could not place the scent. She leaned forward to heave a long breath. William retreated, one eyebrow raised, and lips pursed.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You smell strange." She wracked her mind for an answer to the aroma. Something close by, something that hovered over the encampment. A floral aroma, but there was nothing so gentle in these parts.

"First the herbs and now me?" William chortled. "What could possibly be wrong with your nose?"

"I don't know, it's..." The words caught in her throat as the answer finally hit her. Fae. The scent always becomes strongest when fae are nearby. They're floral, all of them, the sweetest scent, intoxicating even. Yet another way they deeply contrast who they truly are within because someone smelling that sweet should never be so wicked. Charmaine hadn't noticed until recently, but if that scent is here and all over William, who has gone missing multiple times through the night, then...

"The man you are seeing, is he fae?" Charmaine asked, nose curled.

William shut the final crate and stuffed the clipboard under his arm. He wore apathy better than anyone Charmaine had ever met, as if the expression belonged solely to him. "Why would you ask that?"

"The scent of one is all over you."

"The scent of one?" he repeated incredulously. "Do you pay attention to the way they smell that much? Regardless, fae are all over the camp. This place must smell as much of them as it does us."

But he told lies. She sensed it again. This gnawing suspicion at the back of her mind accompanied by little ticks she would never notice before. His muscles tensed and the briefest intake of his breath, so loud that it rang in her ears. The headache she had all day intensified and for a brief moment she thought she felt the anger literally crawling beneath her skin. Pressing a palm to her ringing ear, Charmaine muttered, "Why do you continue to lie to me? I do not need any more stress."

"I am not lying." William sighed. "Besides, who I may be sleeping with is none of your business."

"Implying there is business?"

"Charmaine," he hissed and her name uttered angrily through his clenched teeth made her blood boil.

"Don't call me that when you're keeping secrets, secrets that will get the both of us in trouble. Fae are bad news. You should know that better than anyone, or has this man made you forget what happened to Hugh?"