But I can’t let him know that.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Alinor Bloom, Outerlands, Entry #298
The Citadel taught us that bravery was loud. Fire and fury. Blades and banners. All flash and noise, the kind that leaves smoke in the sky and a name in the history books.
But they never tell you that kind of hero burns out fast. Or dies young.
Out here, hiding you—watching from shadows, saying nothing when every instinct in me begged to fight—I learned the truth.
Bravery isn’t reckless. It’s not dying for the cause. It’s living through it.
It’s staying quiet when you want to scream. Waiting when every part of you demands action. Choosing the longroad, even when it’s lonelier. Planting seeds you might never see bloom and doing it anyway.
I’ve made peace with being a ghost in the margins, if it means you’ll have a chance to live loud. To fight smarter. To last. That’s the kind of legacy I want to leave behind for you.
Not a monument. A door.
“Why do you keep smelling your jumper?” I whisper across to Rowan. He freezes mid-scrub, shoulders tensing like I just caught him committing a crime.
The courtyard’s mostly empty—many cadets off on the weekend leave, and those of us left behind don’t get out of the usual working meditation. Six hours of mind-numbing cleaning. Clean the floors, clean your soul, or whatever twisted mantra Serrane spewed during his last sermon.
Summer’s creeping in. The afternoons still carry a bite, so I'm not surprised he’s wearing a jumper, but it looks strange, too big for him. It hangs loose across his frame, like it belongs to someone else, someone broader, taller.
“Is that, is that Daniel’s?” I ask, one brow raised.
Rowan flushes instantly. Full red, all the way to the tips of his ears. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, like even denying it would be too obvious.
“Oh my god.” I whisper, gleeful now. “It is...”
Looks like I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night. He glares at the stone floor between us, but his blush deepens as he tugs the sleeves over his hands.
“No wait…” I tilt my head, watching the way he can’t stop fidgeting. “It’s serious. Youreallylike him.”
“Oh come on,” he teases, nudging me. “Last night.The Nightrose. That wasn’t nothing either. You can’t mock me for catching feelings when you’re out here pretending Talen was juststress relief. You don’t float around with that look on your face over someone who was just a convenient fuck.”
I open my mouth to correct him, then?—
“You two,” an officer calls from across the courtyard, voice clipped. “Stop talking.”
I roll my eyes at Rowan before dropping my head and getting back to scrubbing the floor. Wax is still crusted between the flagstones, melted deep from last night’s candles. Scraping it up takes forever, and of course it has to be perfect.
A few hours later, once we’re finally finished, I take Rowan up to the ledge on the fifth floor. I overheard from an officer that Talen and Lucien were sent on an overnight assignment, so I know there isn't any chance of bumping into him.
We sit there for hours, just watching the horizon stretch beyond the Realms, picking shapes out of the clouds as the sun sets, imagining what’s out there. The dragons. What it would’ve been like before the Treaty—before the four Veins of Power split the land and separated everyone behind walls and wards.
I’ve grown stupidly fond of him. Rowan. Not in a loud way. Just… the kind of quiet loyalty that builds without you noticing. He’s steady, soft in a world that chews people up. The kind of person you start to count on before you realise you’re doing it.
My heart breaks a little when he tells me he’s not sure it’ll last—with Daniel. That he’s trying not to get ahead of it. Just enjoy it while it’s still simple. I don’t say much. Just nudge his kneewith mine and offer a half-smile. But in my chest, there’s this stubborn, stupid hope that itdoeslast. That someone like him gets something that good and real.
It's dark by the time I get back to my dorm. I open the door and pause for a second, because something feels different, not in a bad way, just different.
Seven months ago, I was thrown into this room like it was a cell. Another piece of the system dragging me under—uniform sheets, cold stone, someone always watching.
But now, now it holds memories.
Ezzy’s laughter, her tears, my tears. Last night, Talen’s hands on my skin, the heat of him still in the mattress.
