Nikias kept his face impassive. It was far too early to reveal his hand, especially to her. She would not take it well and it would only prolong what was already shaping up to be an intensive and long ordeal.
He did allow himself a soft chuckle and said, “No, I’m not changing the assignments and giving you that post. My reasons for giving it to Commander Prisca and Turpis still stand.”
Aimilia’s lip started to curl up as her gaze darkened. “You can claim otherwise until you’re blue in the face, but you’re just making it obvious to everyone you’re punishing me because I embarrassed you. Or more accurately, you’re punishing me because you embarrassed yourself.”
Brat. He often wondered how he had ended up here. Painfully, silently in love with her even when she was making it very hard to be. Even when he wanted not to be.
“You were never getting that post; outside events are irrelevant. You’re needed here. Your life is here. You might be Mitis, but Areator is where you belong.” Nikias shifted back and added, “In order to best serve your country.”
She scoffed. “From where I’m sitting, I’ve got nothing here but two friends and a prince I’ve made an enemy of more times than I can count controlling my every move.”
She was a test of patience, but Nikias was determined to pass.
“Maybe if you saw that I’m not your enemy, I could tell you what assignment I have for you instead,” Nikias said.
Finally, ever so slowly and only ever so slightly, he watched her guard lower. She let go of the arms of the chair and leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “If you insist on keeping me in Areator, aren’t you just going to put me back on the regular patrols like I have been on for the last few months?”
“Your talent is wasted riding around the immediate vicinity when we have no fear of the clan mages trying to sneak in and attack Areator.”
“My talent?”
“Don’t be obtuse. As frustrating an acquaintance as you’ve been for most of our lives, I have always given you the credit you’re due in your skill level. Don’t pretend I haven’t.”
There.
Her cheeks started to turn a slight pink and now she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
She was not nearly as unaffected as she might pretend to be.
“Fine. If you do still think so highly of my skills, what will I be doing?” Aimilia asked, but her gaze was still on the table. “If I’m not your hostage.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already.” That got her to look up again, narrowing her eyes at him, clearly wracking her brain, but he was happy to put her out of her misery. “The entrance exams are almost here. Commander Scipio’s wife went into labor a month early, so I need you now to join the commanders judging the novices competing.”
Her eyes doubled in size. “You want me to judge the little brats?”
“I can think of no better judge of them than the woman who was the best of them.”
She stared at him, and he couldn’t help his lips from twitching up, giving away his subtle teasing insult.
Aimilia rolled her eyes at him, sitting back and crossing her arms. “That will only occupy me for about a week at best.”
“And as a commander, your only concern is to obey the orders you’re given, whether they take a week or not. Once you’re done, you await further orders. These are your orders: you are to stay in Areator until the entrance exams, judge the exams and help place the novices on their tracks, and upon completion, await further orders in Areator.”
As much trouble as she might give him, she was a good commander at the end of the day. She inclined her head. “As you command, Your Highness.”
It was almost suspicious, her acquiescence.
It was why Nikias had gotten to the point of embarrassing himself so publicly. Especially these last few months, there had been something different about Aimilia. He couldn’t exactly define it or describe it, but she was less acerbic toward him. Their interactions were not as biting on her end. She would watch him with a careful, analytical glint in her gaze. She didn’t fight him tooth and nail on every little thing.
He’d thought that after negotiating with Hypatia, and how Aimilia had sobbed over what had happened to him, it meant she cared for him even a fraction of the way he loved her. Clearly, he’d been wrong.
Which left him with no explanation for her recent change in behavior. In the way she would look over her shoulder at him, the way her eyes would always find his at a banquet.
But he still hoped. He could do no less.
“Is there… anything else?” Aimilia asked, looking up.
“That was all, thank you, Commander.” He rose from his seat, and Aimilia did the same. She even managed to give him a respectful bow before heading for the door.
