CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Are you all right?” I asked, my tone gentle.
“I…” Poppy sat on the train chair next to me, hugging her knees, utterly drawn into herself. Her delicate features were pinched, and she visibly trembled. “I didn’t faint this time.”
My smile was sympathetic. “You survived.”
Her eyes flicked to where I sat next to her. “But I’m a soldier. I’m stronger than this.”
I tilted my head to the side, examining the dried tears streaked on her face—that she probably didn’t even know were there, showing the evidence of how distraught she had been while trapped inside. “You believe you aren’t strong if you don’t fight?”
Her chuckle was cold. “Yes. I’m good at fighting.”
“Being good at something doesn’t make you strong.”
Poppy slinked down in her chair. “What do you mean?”
“If you are naturally inclined to a certain skillset, it doesn’t mean you’re above others—or better. The strong are made by their struggles, not what comes easily to them. That’s been proven throughout history. The nations that overcame their weaknesses and worked to better themselves are the societies that prospered.”
Her troubled brown eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying I’m not a strong soldier?”
I leaned back on my chair and tapped my fingers on my legs. The battle raged below with the corporate kings and the golems, Finn’s train now hovering high in the air, keeping Poppy and me safe. Though, Theron the Ancient was sitting in the back, his feet kicked up and playing a game on his silver bracelet—watching over us.
I asked plainly, “This is what you should be asking yourself. How can I become a better soldier? You should always want to be better than what you are. Whether it be in your current profession, in your home life, or with how you contribute to society and your friends.”
She stared. “You deflected my question.”
I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t think you’re a weak soldier, Poppy. But I do think you’re too proud right now to see the obvious. Or you know what it is? You’re too afraid to admit it.”
When her words came, she whispered, “I’m afraid.”
“I know. And that’s all right.”
“But I’ve never met an obstacle I couldn’t beat.”
“That’s a different problem and a hard lesson to learn when the truth hits, so I’m going to detour and focus on the issue at hand.” My fingers kept tapping away on the dirt-streaked silk I wore, teaching even on the battlefield—not just in a classroom. “It’s okay to be afraid, Poppy.”
Her nostrils flared and her head shook. “Not for me.”
“Poppy…it’s okay to be afraid.”
“No. It’s not.” She snorted and turned her head.
I gentled my tone. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
She sniffed, lifting her chin higher.
“Say it, Poppy.”
“Go to Hell.”
My head tilted. “I’m a professor at New City University. Do you think I’m weak because I prefer a pencil over a sword?”
Her brows knit together. “No.”
“If a student of mine decided to harass me, came to my home and vandalized my property, snuck inside my house and beat me and raped me, do you believe I would be weak because I’d take time off of teaching to heal physically and mentally?”
Poppy’s attention turned in my direction again. “Not at all.”
“Don’t you think I’d be scared to enter my classroom on that first day back? That I might stare at the doorknob on the classroom door and not want to turn it? Maybe another student would attack me…”
She nodded. “That’s perfectly normal.”
“So if a soldier was traumatized in battle, don’t you think it would be okay for her hand to hesitate on that theoretical doorknob to the battlefield again?”
Her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip.
Poppy whispered, “I guess so.”
“And do you think it would make her a stronger person if she learned how to turn that doorknob without so much hesitation?”
“Yes.” Her shoulders straightened a little.
I kept my gaze directly on hers, not allowing her to look away from the truth. “It is okay to be afraid. And if you want to become a stronger soldier, you need to know your weaknesses—even the mental ones. Work on them. Better yourself. Make yourself stronger.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as her face lowered, no longer so proud. She mumbled, “I understand now. Thank you, Mina.”
“You’re welcome.” I placed my hand on top of hers, squeezing it in reassurance. “I have faith in you.”
“That’s very kind of you. I hope it’s well-placed.”
I patted her hand before clasping my own on my lap, my back straight and proper. “Now, I would like to ask you a favor.”
One of her red brows rose. “I’m not sure what I can help you with. You seem to have everything you’d want.”
“Not everything. In light of recent events, I have come to realize that I have a profound weakness. It’s one I would like to better.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I can teach a classroom full of students with amazing precision, but if anyone ever tried to hit me, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
She blinked. “You’d duck and hit them back.”
I nodded curtly. “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”
“You want me to train you to fight?” Her eyes traveled up and down my frame. “I’m not sure if that’s possible.”
“Perhaps not. But if I don’t try, then that’ll be my failure.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Just the basics. Enough to get out of a chokehold like my kidnapper used to take Megan out or where to punch an attacker to slow them down.”
Poppy’s eyes softened, her head slowly nodding. “Yeah, okay. I can help you with those things.”
“Thank you so much,” I rushed to say, my shoulders heaving in relief. I turned my attention from her and stared out the window. “I have my own demons to work on. You aren’t the only one who is afraid, Poppy.”