The soldiers are marching again, with the heavy sound of drums quick to follow.
Everyone in the town who knows what is coming stays silent and tries to hide, praying that they won't stop here, in Woodson.
And it's every week now that they pick a new...
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After waking up to Camillo's half-asleep face, I get up from his hold to let him rest.
He must be exhausted from staying up all night keeping watch over us how he usually does, and I can't understand why he does it.
"Why are you still awake?" I ask, remembering that Kade is supposed to have the second watch.
"I couldn't fall asleep."
"You should have woken me up, then."
I say the words before thinking them through, but Camillo looks at my curiously. "And why, exactly, would I do that?"
My cheeks burn. It is really unnerving how although Camillo stays awake all night and day keeping watch over the camp, he refuses to lay down; Whenever someone tries their best to get him to bed, he reassures us that he's fine. No one complains, especially Kade who loves to sleep, but I can see through the way he blinks hard late in the afternoon that he is tired.
"Because you're tired. You should let me keep watch."
"Let a girl keep watch?"
A girl?
The taste of that word on his mouth makes my temper rise. Why should gender matter at all?
"Just because I am a girl does not mean that I am not capable." I spit out at him, and he winces at his words.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what did you mean, Camillo?"
"It's not very chivalrous for a man to let a woman do his job. That's all."
"His job? Then what is my job? To sit around all day and make dinner?"
I glare at Camillo, not sure why I am directing all of my anger on him. Maybe he didn't mean it, but it still sort of hurts.
"Of course not. You just don't understand -"
"Once again, I understand perfectly." I cross my arms over my chest. "You just hate the fact that I am just as competent as you are." I huff, and don't even bother to listen to his response as I walk away.
What even is chivalry, anyway?
Before I can ask, behind me, Camillo is sprawled out on the grass behind me, fast asleep.
I roll my eyes at his lean figure, wondering why he feels the need to act so annoying sometimes. Camillo's brooding has oddly grown on me, and I am starting to get used to his comfortable silence. Sometimes, I can decipher bits and pieces of his emotions through his eyes or gestures. Or maybe when the tone of his voice gives him away because something irks him. Do I irk him? I find it hard to believe that he thinks very highly of me. But I've realized that I couldn't see hints of his expressions before because he would not show them to me, and now, for some unknown reason, he is starting to become more comfortable around me.
