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Ruth hated the silence of Ambessa Medarda's tent. It wasn't that the quiet unnerved her—it was the way it amplified Ambessa's presence, making her every movement and breath feel magnified. Ambessa didn’t need words to command attention. A glance, a raised brow, the subtle shift of her posture was enough to make Ruth’s nerves hum like a taut string.
She stepped inside, keeping her hands clasped behind her back and her expression neutral. She’d perfected the art of blankness over the years, a trait Ambessa valued in her most trusted soldier.
“General,” Ruth greeted, her voice steady.
Ambessa didn’t look up right away. She was bent over a map, her fingers tracing lines with deliberate precision. When she finally raised her eyes, Ruth’s stomach flipped. Ambessa’s gaze had a way of pinning her in place, as if daring her to waver.
“You’re late,” Ambessa remarked, a hint of sharpness in her tone.
“My apologies, General. The skirmish on the northern flank required additional attention.” Ruth’s voice was even, calm, betraying none of the way her heart raced.
“Did it?” Ambessa’s lips curled faintly, her tone dipping into something almost amused. “Unusual for you to struggle with such a minor engagement.”
Ruth felt a flicker of panic but kept her expression stone-cold. “I don’t believe there was a struggle, General. The matter was resolved efficiently.”
“Efficiently, but not flawlessly.” Ambessa stepped closer, circling Ruth with the slow, deliberate prowl of a predator. “You’re off your game, Ruth. Why?”
Ruth’s spine stiffened. Her mask didn’t crack, though the accusation stung. “I wasn’t aware my performance had declined.”
Ambessa hummed, stopping in front of her. She was tall, broad, an imposing figure who dominated the space around her. Ruth could smell the faint trace of leather and iron that clung to her—a scent she’d come to associate with authority, power, and the source of her carefully hidden torment.
“Ruth,” Ambessa said, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down Ruth’s spine. “I know you. Better than most. Something is different.”
Ruth clenched her jaw, forcing herself to hold Ambessa’s gaze. The urge to avert her eyes was overwhelming, but she refused to give Ambessa the satisfaction.
“Nothing is different, General,” she replied, her voice unwavering. “I remain focused on your orders.”
Ambessa leaned closer, and Ruth felt her composure fray ever so slightly. The proximity was unbearable. Ambessa’s presence was suffocating, intoxicating, and maddening all at once.
“Are you sure?” Ambessa asked, her tone low, probing.
Ruth’s breath hitched, but her face betrayed nothing. She willed herself to remain still, to not let the firestorm of desire raging in her chest show.
“Yes, General,” she said, her voice betraying no hint of the storm within.
Ambessa studied her for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing. Ruth wanted to scream at her to stop, to quit searching for cracks in her armor. But Ambessa only smirked faintly, a flicker of amusement in her otherwise inscrutable expression.
“Very well,” Ambessa said, finally stepping back. Ruth almost sagged with relief but caught herself.
“Dismissed,” Ambessa said, turning away, but not before Ruth caught the glimmer of something—curiosity? Amusement?—in her eyes.
Ruth saluted sharply, her face as impassive as ever, and turned to leave the tent. The cold night air hit her like a slap, but she welcomed it. Anything to cool the heat that lingered in her chest.
She stalked back toward the barracks, her steps measured and deliberate. Ambessa couldn’t know. Ruth wouldn’t let her. The thought of being just another fleeting conquest was unbearable. She’d rather live with the torment of unspoken longing than risk losing Ambessa’s respect.
And yet, Ambessa wasn’t making it easy. The way she watched her, the way her voice dipped just enough to send Ruth’s mind spiraling, felt deliberate.
Ruth shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. She would remain the perfect soldier, the trustworthy right hand Ambessa relied on. Whatever chemistry lingered in the air between them was irrelevant.
Or so Ruth told herself, over and over again, as her heart betrayed her.
-------
The tension in Ruth's shoulders didn't ease until she was back in her tent, away from the suffocating pull of Ambessa's presence. She sat on her cot, exhaling slowly, trying to steady her nerves.
She'd been sloppy. Letting her thoughts wander, letting her carefully curated mask slip even for a moment—that was unforgivable. Ruth prided herself on her discipline, her ability to remain unaffected no matter how close she stood to temptation. Ambessa could never know how she felt.
Not just because of what it might mean for her position, but because Ruth couldn’t bear the thought of being nothing more than a fleeting indulgence.
The memory of Ambessa’s smirk, the way her voice dipped in curiosity, lingered in Ruth’s mind like a splinter. She clenched her fists. Focus. You’re better than this.
But her resolve was tested the next day when Ambessa summoned her again.
Ruth entered the command tent, as disciplined as always, her mask firmly in place. Ambessa was at her desk again, but this time, she wasn’t pouring over maps or writing orders. She sat back, her hands clasped, her gaze already fixed on Ruth as she entered.
“Ruth,” Ambessa greeted, her tone sharper than usual.
“General,” Ruth replied, standing at attention.
Ambessa gestured for her to step closer. Ruth obeyed without hesitation, though the air seemed heavier with every step.
“You’ve been under my command for years now,” Ambessa began, her tone almost conversational, but Ruth could hear the edge beneath it. “You’re my most reliable soldier. My most ruthless. Do you know why?”
Ruth hesitated. She didn’t like where this was going. “I follow your orders without question, General.”
Ambessa’s smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, more calculating. “Exactly. But yesterday, you faltered. You hesitated.” She stood, towering over Ruth, her presence as overwhelming as ever. “I want to know why.”
Ruth’s stomach twisted. She kept her face blank, but the weight of Ambessa’s gaze was unbearable. “It was a momentary lapse, General. It won’t happen again.”
Ambessa stepped closer, her voice dropping. “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you.”
Ruth’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain calm. “With respect, General, I don’t believe my personal thoughts are relevant to my duties.”
Ambessa’s eyes flashed with amusement, and Ruth felt her chest tighten. “Personal thoughts,” Ambessa repeated, her voice laced with something dangerous. “That’s a curious way to phrase it.”
Ruth’s mind raced for a way out. “I meant nothing by it, General.”
Ambessa stepped even closer, close enough that Ruth could feel the heat radiating from her. “You’re hiding something, Ruth. You’re usually so predictable, so perfectly composed. But I think I’ve found a crack in your armor.”
Ruth’s breath caught, but she refused to let it show. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, General.”
Ambessa tilted her head, studying her with that maddening smirk. “Am I?”
Ruth forced herself to meet Ambessa’s gaze, her face an impenetrable mask. “Yes, General.”
For a moment, the silence stretched between them, heavy and charged. Ruth felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering precariously.
Then Ambessa stepped back, her smirk fading into something more inscrutable. “Very well,” she said, her tone brisk. “You’re dismissed. For now.”
Ruth saluted sharply, her expression betraying nothing, and turned to leave the tent. But as she stepped outside into the cold air, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Ambessa wasn’t finished with her.
And worse, Ruth couldn’t decide if she wanted Ambessa to press further—or leave her in peace.
---
That night, Ruth sat alone by the campfire, staring into the flames. She’d thought she’d buried her feelings deep enough to remain hidden, but Ambessa’s probing had rattled her. The general was too perceptive, too relentless.
Ruth clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t let herself slip again. Ambessa could never know how much Ruth wanted her, how much she ached for every stolen moment in her presence. It was better this way.
Because if Ambessa ever found out, Ruth knew she wouldn’t survive being just another conquest.
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Ruth’s hands shook as she tightened the straps on her armor. She had barely slept after the skirmish, her mind too full of thoughts of Ambessa to allow for peace. Every moment she spent in the general’s presence felt like a knife’s edge—balanced between respect and something darker, more forbidden.
She had been hoping for some reprieve, but when the messenger arrived, summoning her to the command tent, Ruth’s stomach twisted.
She entered with her usual poise, standing at attention as the flap of the tent fell closed behind her. Ambessa stood by her desk, her arms crossed, a stormy expression darkening her features.
“You wanted to see me, General?” Ruth said, her voice steady despite the sinking feeling in her chest.
Ambessa’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp enough to cut. “Sit,” she ordered.
Ruth obeyed, sitting stiffly in the chair before the desk. She didn’t dare fidget, but her muscles were tense, coiled like a spring.
Ambessa remained standing, looming over her like a mountain. “I don’t have time for games, Ruth. Something’s wrong with you.”
“General, I assure you—”
“Don’t lie to me,” Ambessa snapped, slamming a hand on the desk. The sharp sound made Ruth flinch despite herself.
“I’m not lying,” Ruth said, her voice quieter now but no less steady.
Ambessa leaned forward, her voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “You’re distracted. You’re holding back. And I can’t afford to have one of my best soldiers falter because she’s too stubborn to admit there’s a problem.”
Ruth’s throat tightened. “I’m fine, General.”
Ambessa scoffed, straightening to her full height. “Fine? You’ve been off for days, Ruth. You think I haven’t noticed? You think I don’t see the way you hesitate, the way you avoid looking me in the eye?”
Ruth’s fingers dug into her thighs as she fought to keep her composure. “With respect, General, I’m doing my job.”
Ambessa’s eyes flashed with anger. “Your job is to serve me without question. To be the soldier I can trust above all others. But right now, I don’t trust you, Ruth. Not like this.”
Ruth’s mask cracked. She looked up at Ambessa, her chest tight with frustration and something dangerously close to despair. “I haven’t failed you,” she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.
“Then prove it,” Ambessa said, her tone cutting. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Ruth’s lips pressed into a thin line. She refused to speak, her hands curling into fists as she stared at the ground.
Ambessa growled in frustration, taking a step closer. “Ruth, damn it, talk to me!”
The sharpness of Ambessa’s voice was too much. Ruth felt the dam inside her break, and before she could stop herself, tears began to spill down her cheeks.
“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice choked.
Ambessa froze, her anger evaporating in an instant. She stared at Ruth, wide-eyed, as if she had just been slapped.
“What…?” Ambessa said, her voice uncharacteristically soft, tinged with disbelief. “Ruth, are you—are you crying?”
Ruth buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, the words tumbling out in a broken whisper. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want to ruin everything.”
Ambessa stood there, utterly flabbergasted. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, unsure of what to say. She had expected defiance, excuses—anything but this.
“Ruth,” Ambessa said finally, her voice awkward, almost hesitant. “I—stop crying.”
Ruth only cried harder, her hands trembling as she tried to wipe her tears away.
Ambessa shifted uncomfortably, looking around the tent as if the answer to this unexpected crisis might be written somewhere on the walls. “I—don’t cry,” she said again, her voice softer now, almost pleading.
She stepped closer, crouching slightly so she was at Ruth’s level. “Ruth,” she said, her voice gentler than Ruth had ever heard it. “Look at me.”
Ruth hesitated, but eventually, she lowered her hands, her tear-streaked face flushed with shame.
Ambessa’s heart clenched at the sight. She wasn’t used to this, wasn’t equipped for it, but she couldn’t ignore the ache in her chest. “Hey,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. “You’re not ruining anything. Whatever’s going on, just tell me.”
Ruth shook her head. “I don’t want you to hate me,” she whispered.
Ambessa frowned, her brows knitting together. “Ruth, I could never hate you. You’re one of the most reliable soldiers I have. Whatever this is, we can deal with it.”
Ruth took a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she gripped the edges of her chair. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “And I hate myself for it because you’re my general, and I—” Her voice cracked, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
Ambessa stared at her, stunned into silence. She had expected… what? Disobedience? A secret grudge? Not this.
She hesitated, then reached out, placing a hand on Ruth’s shoulder. “You should have told me,” Ambessa said, her voice still awkward but undeniably kind. “I’m not angry, Ruth.”
Ruth blinked up at her, her tear-filled eyes wide with disbelief.
Ambessa sighed, her hand giving Ruth’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m not good at… this,” she admitted, her tone wry. “But I do know you’ve been tearing yourself apart over something you didn’t have to carry alone.”
Ruth looked down, her tears slowing as Ambessa’s words sank in.
“We’ll figure this out,” Ambessa said, her voice steady. “But you need to trust me. Just like I trust you.”
Ruth nodded slowly, her breathing evening out as the weight of her confession began to lift. Ambessa’s hand lingered on her shoulder, warm and steady, a silent reassurance that Ruth wasn’t alone.
Ambessa’s hand lingered on Ruth’s shoulder, and for a moment, the tension between them felt like a live wire. She had never seen her soldier like this—vulnerable, raw, stripped of the unshakable poise that usually defined her.
But as Ruth’s breathing slowed and her tears dried, Ambessa felt something stir deep within her. She wasn’t used to being soft, to offering comfort—but she wasn’t blind, either. Ruth’s earlier words echoed in her mind.
"I can’t stop thinking about you."
Ambessa’s fingers tightened slightly on Ruth’s shoulder, her gaze sharpening. The awkwardness faded, replaced by the kind of confidence she wielded on the battlefield. “You can’t stop thinking about me, hmm?”
Ruth’s head snapped up, her cheeks flooding with heat. “General, I—”
“Ambessa,” she interrupted, her voice low, smooth, and almost predatory. “When we’re alone like this, it’s Ambessa.”
Ruth’s throat tightened. She searched for an escape, but there was none. Ambessa’s grip wasn’t firm, but it was grounding, and her presence loomed, larger than life. “Ambessa,” she said softly, the name tasting unfamiliar on her tongue.
Ambessa smirked, her gaze dropping slightly, almost imperceptibly, to Ruth’s lips before flicking back up. “Good. Now tell me—what exactly do you think about when it comes to me?”
Ruth’s composure cracked, her mouth opening and closing as her brain scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t embarrass her further. “I… I think about how much I admire you,” she stammered.
“Admire?” Ambessa leaned in, her face inches from Ruth’s now. Her voice dropped into a sultry, commanding tone. “That’s not what you said earlier.”
Ruth’s heart hammered in her chest, her body rigid under the weight of Ambessa’s presence. “I—”
Ambessa tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as a teasing smile curved her lips. “You can’t stop thinking about me, Ruth. I think I deserve to know why.”
Ruth’s composure shattered entirely, her words spilling out in a frantic, breathless confession. “I think about you all the time. Your strength, your voice, the way you look at me—everything! It’s—it’s maddening, and I hate it because I’m supposed to be your soldier, not…” She trailed off, her face burning with shame.
Ambessa’s smirk deepened, but there was no malice in it—only a dangerous, amused curiosity. She leaned in closer, her voice a whisper now, brushing against Ruth’s frayed nerves like silk. “Not what?”
Ruth shut her eyes, her fists clenching at her sides. “Not one of your playthings,” she said, her voice trembling.
Ambessa’s amusement flickered, replaced by something darker, deeper. She cupped Ruth’s chin, forcing the soldier to meet her gaze. “You think I see you as a plaything?”
Ruth nodded, her eyes wide and glassy.
Ambessa exhaled sharply, her thumb brushing against Ruth’s jawline. “You’re not just a soldier to me, Ruth. If you were, I wouldn’t waste my time.”
Ruth swallowed hard, her body trembling under the weight of Ambessa’s words and her touch. “I don’t know what to do with this,” she admitted softly.
Ambessa’s smirk softened, but her eyes remained sharp, predatory. “Then let me show you.”
And before Ruth could respond, Ambessa’s lips brushed against hers—firm, commanding, yet teasing, as if testing the waters. Ruth froze, her mind blank, her body alight with sensation.
When Ambessa pulled back, she lingered, her breath warm against Ruth’s lips. “But only if you’re ready,” she murmured, her voice softer now, with a hint of something Ruth couldn’t name.
Ruth stared at her, her mind spinning, but despite the chaos, her body moved on its own. Her hands reached out, gripping Ambessa’s tunic as if to ground herself. “I—”
Ambessa raised a brow, waiting.
Ruth took a shaky breath, her resolve finally cracking as she whispered, “Please.”
The word was barely out of her mouth before Ambessa closed the distance again, this time with more intensity, her hands sliding to Ruth’s waist. Whatever line had existed between them shattered completely, leaving nothing but heat, tension, and the unspoken promises they had been dancing around for far too long.