Aimilia looked over at him. “For years I didn’t visit his grave. Like I’d forfeited the right to when I couldn’t keep my composure.Disgrace.I remember that word most from Cyprian’s mouth that day.”
She was painfully obvious.
He looked back out at the darkness. “That is not the same thing.”
“I never said it was the same.”
“Then what was the purpose of the story?” Nikias dug his nails into his thighs. “You were a child. Of course you were crying. Why would you ever have the idea you’d forfeited the right to visit his grave?”
“I don’t know where the idea came from.” She tilted her head, her braid slipping off her shoulder. Her hair in the coolmoonlight was practically begging him to look at her. “I think our minds are strange, dangerous places. I just… believed. And I never told anyone about it, so I never had anyone challenge me on it.”
“Even if I believed you for a second thatthiscould in any way be a good thing to tell anyone, which is laughable, who do I have left to tell?”
Aimilia just stared at him for a moment. Her soft breaths filled the air and she shifted just a little bit closer. But she didn’t reach out.
They’d had a similar exchange before, but every silence had been weighed down by his adoration of her that she would never accept. She’d had him, but she would have only laughed at his offer.
And why shouldn’t she?
What did he really have to offer her?
She certainly wasn’t going to offer herself. She had no interest in being his. Who would after they saw the things she’d seen?
“Nikias—” Aimilia took another breath. “I’m not talking about that. At least, not telling people in the broad sense.” She shifted closer and he pulled his knee up to his chest more tightly, pressing it against his heart. “Why haven’t you asked one of us to heal your black eye? Why did you run before I could heal your injuries in Areator?”
On the few occasions Gavril had discovered when Nikias was injured and healed him, Nikias had never asked. Aimilia would, he had no doubt of that. She was always kinder to him than he deserved.
He stayed silent.
The answer was not worth the fight.
A branch rustled nearby. A bird darted through the air. He stared into the darkness. Nikias’ silence condemned him. It always did.
“You don’t deserve them,” Aimilia whispered.
“Commander, I am not interested in your pity.” Each word was clipped, a sharp piece of broken marble.
“I’m not offering any.” Aimilia sighed. “What ever happened to wanting to start over?”
“That’s not possible.” Nikias’ throat tightened. “There’s too much between us. It was a foolish hope.”
“Well, to be fair, it wouldn’t serve your purposes even so.” Aimilia’s voice lightened as she stretched her legs out and leaned on her hand, looking up at him. “I’m still not marrying you.”
Nikias’ head whipped around to face her fully.
“What?”
Aimilia grinned at him. “I might hate you less now, but not that much less. I might also owe you a few apologies as well. I blamed you unfairly for years when there wasn’t anything you could do in that situation that wouldn’t make it worse. So, I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t change anything else. I know now that you were only marrying to keep Gavril around to try to fix your relationship with him. Although choosing me rather backfired in that attempt, and I’m certainly not going to be swayed by any of that.”
“Alright?” Nikias couldn’t quite follow what was happening here.
An apology? From Aimilia?
Had he somehow fallen asleep and into a dream?
“Great, then I’ll leave you to your watch. Goodnight, Nikias.”
She was gone as quickly as she’d come.
