“The training yard would suggest I’m a better fighter than he is,” I countered. “Which is objectively true and has fuck-all to do with romance.”
“You were straddling him.” The words came out tight. Like he was using every ounce of restraint not to break something.
“I waspinninghim. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” He turned back to face me fully now. “Because from where I stood, it looked remarkably intimate.”
Heat crawled up my neck. Not embarrassment, but fury. “You saw me holding his hand in the courtyard and decided what? That we’re secretly fucking? That I have feelings for him?”
His silence was answer enough.
“You’re unbelievable,” I breathed. “Actually unbelievable.”
“You were holding his hand,” he said, and there was something almost desperate in his voice now. “Right there in front of everyone. Looking at him like?—”
“Like what?” I demanded. “Like he’s my friend? Because he is. That’s all he is, Varyth. A friend who needed support while his—” I caught myself just in time, swallowing the words that would out Fenric and Linc’s relationship. “While he was worried.”
Varyth’s eyes narrowed. “Worried.”
“Yes.”
“About you.”
“No, not me, you idiot.” I closed the distance between us, anger making me reckless. “I mean yes. He’d just found out Lincatheron and I had faced Xyliria. He was worried about both of us, and as hisfriendI held his hand. Because he’s nice and worries about the people he cares about. Hisfriends.”
Varyth stared at me like I’d just told him the sun rose in the west.
I crossed my arms. “So all that?” I gestured vaguely back toward the castle. “All that possessive bullshit in the training yard? That murderous look when I was sitting on Fenric’s chest? Completely misplaced.”
His throat worked. Swallowed hard. “I thought?—”
“You thought wrong.” The words came out rougher than intended. “There’s nothing between Fenric and me except friendship and a shared appreciation for thoroughly humiliating overconfident warriors.”
Varyth’s hands were shaking. Actually shaking where they gripped the stone railing behind him.
“I’ve been planning his murder for a week,” he said quietly. Conversationally. Like he was discussing the weather instead ofpremeditated homicide. “Since I saw you holding his hand in that courtyard.”
Despite the fury simmering in my veins and the confusion tearing through my chest, laughter bubbled up. “You’ve been planning Fenric’s murder.”
“Very thoroughly.” His eyes locked on mine, molten and fierce. “I had nineteen different scenarios. Each one more violent than the last.”
“That’s deeply unhinged.”
“I’m aware.” He pushed off the railing, closing the distance between us. “Do you know what it did to me? Watching you with him? Thinking you’d chosen—” His voice cracked. “I saw the way he smiled at you. The way you made him laugh. How comfortable you were with him, howeasyit all seemed?—”
“Because we’refriends,” I repeated, my voice raising now, the words echoing off stone. “Because I can spar with him without drowning in guilt or confusion or wanting to simultaneously murder and kiss someone until neither of us can breathe.”
Varyth went very, very still.
“Isara.” My name came out broken. Desperate. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re an idiot.” I was close enough to touch him now, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. “I’m saying I spent the last week looking for you because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands in my hair and your mouth on mine and the way I came apart in your study before Ipanickedlike a fucking coward?—”
“You didn’t panic.” His hands found my waist, tentative, like he was afraid I’d bolt. “Youfroze. There’s a difference.”
“Feels the same from where I’m standing.”
“It’s not.” His grip tightened, pulling me closer by inches. “Freezing means you were scared. Panic means you wanted to run. But you didn’t run, Isara. You just... stopped.”
