Born of Defiance (6 page)

“Major,” the waiter said as he brought menus for them. “Tara.”

“Thank you.” Felicia opened the menu while Talyn set his down on the table. She peeked over the top of hers to find him staring at the floor. “Is something wrong?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Not used to having lunch with someone.”

“You don't normally eat with your friends?”

“Don't have any.”

She scowled at his emotionless tone. “None?”

“I'm a bastard,” he said simply.

“Yeah? So am I.” Yet she had a ton of friends. Well … depending on the time of the month.

“Your father isn't an Outcast, Felicia. I have no paternal lineage. At all. My caste class is
-12-6.”

“Oh.” Yeah, that would be a problem in a society that placed high importance and
all
personal value on dual family lineages. The only thing lower than his standing was an Outcast male.

Something
no
Andarion wanted to be.

While her parents had never married, both her mother and father came from elite noble families with very prestigious standings. Her caste was miles above his, which was even more rare on Andaria. Females always took care to tie themselves to males who were either equal to or above them in standing. The only exception being the royal eton Anatoles, who, as the ruling family, were the highest caste in their empire.

His eyes filled with remorse, Talyn shifted in his seat. When he spoke, there was no emotion in his tone at all. “If you want to terminate your contract with me before I taint you, I'll understand. You won't have to worry. I'll pay the severance fees and you can go back to your agency.”

“Talyn,” she breathed, touching his hand. “I don't care about your father or his standing. I'm more than happy to be here with you.”

Before he could respond, the waiter returned with water. “Are you ready to order?”

Talyn inclined his head to her. “What would you like,
mu tara
?”

You on a platter.

Unfortunately, Talyn tartare wasn't one of her options. “I'm not sure. What do you recommend?”

“I'm in training, so all I'm eating is lean white meat with nothing on it and whatever plain grain they have. I don't recommend that.”

She screwed her face up. “Seriously?”

He nodded.

She looked to the waiter. “What do
you
recommend?”

“The sunset steak is exceptional. As is the summer salad.”

“I think I'll have the steak, well done.”

“And to drink?”

“Wine.”

He took the menus without asking Talyn for his order.

As she opened her mouth to speak, a human male hesitantly approached their table.

“Hammer,” he said to Talyn, whose face turned even more rigid. “You ready for tomorrow night?”

“I am.”

“Good. I've got a month's credit riding on you. I'm looking forward to the payout.” He held a small link and stylus out to Talyn. “Would you mind signing this for my grandson? He's a huge fan of yours.”

Only then did Talyn relax a degree. “Sure. What's his name?”

“Gelun. G-e-l-u-n.”

Talyn signed it and handed it back to the man, who smiled happily.

He clutched the autograph to his chest. “I won't keep you from your female. Good luck tomorrow night.”

“Thanks.”

Felicia arched a brow at the strange occurrence.

“I'm a Ring fighter.” Talyn took a drink of water.

“One of my friends told me that after I'd signed our contract. I had no idea before then. What made you want to be one?”

He sighed heavily. “They wouldn't let me into OT, otherwise.”

“OT?”

“Officer training.”

Felicia felt sick at what he was telling her. Ring fighting was a
brutal
blood sport where opponents tried to kill each other for entertainment. Many times, they succeeded. Honestly, the entire sport and those who participated in it repulsed her. “How long have you been fighting?”

“Nine years.”

That shocked her even more. Who in their right mind would allow their child to participate in something so horrific as a baby? “You were an infant when you started.”

“Almost eleven. Normal age for most boys who seriously go into it. I was big for my age back then. They thought I was fifteen and I didn't bother to correct them.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Besides, Open doesn't ask for ID—which is why it's called Open. So long as you have the entry fee, they'll let you fight.”

Felicia barely caught herself before she contradicted him about the beginning age for fighters. For Vested fighters with lineage, seventeen was the normal age to start—after years of private training, with carefully selected instructors, and very specific rules and limitations for those who weren't ranked as pros. As a bastard without lineage, Talyn would have been in the Open league, which was even more brutal, as they were treated like, and viewed as, cockfighting animals. They had no rules whatsoever, or personal trainers, and she had no idea how old those boys were when they began. Obviously, they started in infancy.

“How often do you fight?”

“Two or three times a month, during prime season.”

She was aghast at the amount.

“Iron Hammer! Holy shite!” This time it was an Andarion male in business clothes who came up to them. “I didn't know you ate here! Would you mind taking a photo with me?”

“Sure.”

The male handed his link to his friend as Talyn rose to stand beside him. After his friend took the picture, he held his hand out to Talyn. “I'm a huge fan. It's so awesome to meet you.”

“You, too.” Talyn retook his seat after they left.

Frowning, she was confused by all the attention he garnered. “Are you famous?” Since they were considered the mongrel dogs of the Ring sporting world, it was rare for any Open league fighter to be known to the general public.

His cheeks mottled with color before he answered. “I just won the Zoftiq title for Vested a few months back. And I'm the former Open league Zof champ. I had to surrender that title when I won Vested.”

She gaped at something that was as impressive as it was rare. Fresca had definitely
not
told her that. Nor had she found it on her cursory search.

Strange.

“Really?” she gasped.

Sheepishly, he glanced away. “I'm also undefeated in both leagues.”

Her head spun at what he was saying. “Talyn … that's incredible! Why didn't you tell me?”

“You said on your profile that you hated Ring fighting and wanted no part of it.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“I didn't think you'd talk to me if you knew.”

He was right. She probably wouldn't have. She'd always thought of fighters as brain-addled morons who pummeled each other because they were too dumb to know better. But that wasn't true of Talyn. He was definitely not what came to her mind when she thought of the lunatics who made their glory in violence and entrails.

“How long do you intend to fight?”

“Just until I make a commander's rank. If I don't fight, I have no other way to get promoted.”

That didn't make sense to her. “You're Zoftiq champion of both leagues. Why
aren't
you a commander?”

“I'm the bastard son of a disowned male, Felicia,” he repeated. “
-12-6. A slave or criminal has more standing than I do. Even in the military.”

In that moment, her heart broke for him. He was right, and it wasn't fair. Any Vested Andarion would be adjutant to the prime commander of their military if they'd achieved so much, especially at
his
age. They'd have their pick of posts and ranks.

Yet he was merely a major. Not even one with a command position.

In that moment,
she,
a diehard pacifist, wanted to beat someone.

“Why has no one in your father's family adopted you?” That was normally what the family did to protect the children of sons who, for whatever crime, had been cast out of their lineages. Almost always, the grandmother, great-grandmother, or a sister stepped in and reclaimed the innocent children. “Do they not know about you?”

There was no missing the anguish her question caused him. “They know. They just don't care.”

The waiter returned with their food. Felicia had to force herself not to curl her lip at what Talyn was forced to eat. Water, and a giant portion of plain white meat, brown rice, cut-up raw fruit, and three hard-boiled eggs. They weren't even salted.

“Is that really what you're eating?”

He nodded. “I have a very restricted diet whenever I'm in training.”

“Out of curiosity, champ, when
aren't
you training?”

He snorted before he spoke again. “I have a very restricted diet, all the time.”

She shook her head. “When was the last time you had cake?”

“My tenth birthday.”

“Is that a joke?”

“I don't think so.”

Feeling guilty, she sampled her delicious-looking food. Which was quite tasty. “So what exactly is your daily schedule like?”

He swallowed his bite of egg. “I get up at five, run ten miles. Shower. Have to make check-in by seven. The armada owns my worthless ass until nineteen hundred. Sometimes later. Grab a quick bite. Then I spend three to four hours in the gym at night, training. I usually have two evenings off from double-duty and practice, but the weekends are full training days or matches or maneuvers.”

Gah, she couldn't imagine such a grueling, unforgiving schedule. How did he stay sane? “What do you do for fun?”

“Climb.”

“And when do you get to climb?”

He ate a bite of rice. “Ground maneuvers, rescue and survival training, every couple of months. Then, once a year, during my liberty week.”

“And?” she prompted.

“And what?”

“What else do you enjoy?”

“Sleep.”

“Talyn, I'm serious.”

“As am I. Why do you think I want a command position so badly? They'd drop my hours down to only ten hours a day, four days a week. And I'd get two weeks of liberty a year. Best of all, I'd have a later curfew. And I'd get one night a week without one.”

Never had she been happier that her own half-Vest status had kept her out of the military.

“Have you ever thought about a career outside of the armada?”

He swallowed the fruit and reached for more. “I wanted to be a surgeon.”

“Why didn't you go to med school?”

“Couldn't get in with my classification. Without a paternal lineage, no Andarion school would even accept my application.”

“No one?”

He shook his head. “Believe me, I tried. I even applied to The League medical corps. They turned me down, too. Since they have so few Andarions in their service and the humans don't like for us to treat them, they said they didn't have any open slots for our kind. I applied three times, and with the third one, they sent notice that I wasn't going to get in, so I shouldn't waste time or money applying again.”

That had to be hard for him. “I'm sorry, Talyn.”

He shrugged with a nonchalance she was sure he didn't really feel. How could he? Anyone who'd kept trying after being turned down that many times must have really wanted it.

“I got over it.”

His tone said he was being honest, but she saw the regret in his eyes. The quiet, tormented resignation.

Her heart breaking for him, she watched as he finished off his bland lunch that was forced on him by his limited career options. Options he didn't bitch about, but he had every right to.

“So what about you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

She wiped her lips. “What about me?”

“What are you studying?”

“Ironically, I'm in med school. Entering my second year. I just passed my PT licensing exams a month ago.”