The thought struck me still. I’d come after Ericen because he was my friend, because I’d abandoned him once before and I refused to do it again. But I’d known all along that wasn’t the whole truth.
You cannot be afraid to see what you see.
There was a question in Ericen’s blue eyes. Blue as the ocean bathed in sunlight, blue as the sky on a clear Rhodairen summer day—a sky I wanted so badly to fall into.
So I did.
My lips found his, soft and questioning at first. But when he tilted his head down to meet me, and I felt the urgency behind his touch, I let go and fell.
My hands were in his hair and at his neck, and I pressed up onto my toes to reach him. The rough calluses, earned from years of blood and steel, brushed across my face and along my neck with a quiet tenderness. I felt his fingers tangling in my curls, felt them tracing lines of fire across my skin. I lost all sense of time and place, of the loss and fear and pain, and of the future that likely held more of them all.
Then a gentle tug, like someone shaking me awake. Res pulled again along the cord, questioning where I was, what I was doing. A slight flush filled Ericen’s pale skin as I pulled back, his fingers brushing mine.
I sent a reassuring wave back to Res, my cheeks burning.
Ericen smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
“Pretty sure I did it and you just followed along,” I replied. His smile quirked into that one-sided smirk. I brushed the edge of his hand. “We’re convening to discuss our next moves an hour from now. I want you to come with me.”
That little furrow appeared in his brow. “Why?”
“Because if you can give the alliance helpful information, they might believe you’re on our side.” And maybe, just maybe, he could help salvage our situation. Whatever insider information he could provide on Illucian battle tactics and plans for their attack on Rhodaire might help us.
Ericen was silent. He returned to his spot at the window, eyes set on the landscape beyond. He’d broken from his mother’s hold, and he’d turned his back on Illucia to help me, but he hadn’t gone so far as to give up secrets and information that would work against them.
I stepped up beside him, waiting.
“I’ve spent so long trying to be who she wanted. Someone who would make her proud.” He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. When he opened them again, he looked resolved. “It’s time I did what’s best for myself and for my people.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right here.”
He clasped it back. “I know. Do you have a plan?”
I leaned forward against the window, focusing on the cool touch of the glass. “I think I’ve done enough damage,” I replied. “Someone else will have a plan.”
“I thought you didn’t concede?” he asked, and the words pulled at the weight inside me. I’d said them to him the first time we’d sparred in Sordell; it’d been the first night I’d really begun to trust him.
“Stealing my lines is a cheap move,” I murmured against the glass.
“You’re not worth more effort in this state.”
A smile tugged at my lips, the familiar banter filling me like the heat of a fire. I pulled back from the glass to look at him, and he stared back with an easy smile, the one that never failed to make me really, trulyseehim.
He was right. I couldn’t walk away from this. I’d begun this fight, and now I needed to end it.
“You and Kiva have more in common than either of you know,” I said.
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m still better with a sword.”
I laughed. Part of me would love to see if that was true; the other didn’t want Kiva stabbing the boy I liked.
The boy I liked.
My cheeks flushed at the thought, and Ericen’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it, but he was mercifully quiet. I ordered tea, and we spent the rest of the time before the meeting just talking in a way we’d never done before. He told me about missing Callo, the stallion he’d left behind in Sordell, and how the horse had loved to go galloping in the rain. I talked about Caliza and what I’d give just to argue with her over something trivial if it meant being there with her.
When at last the meeting time arrived, I felt thawed, like my layers of guilt and grief had been sheared away by Kiva’s tender strength, Ericen’s stories, and Res’s quiet contentment slipping down the line in soft waves.
After Ronoch, I’d been afraid to talk to people about the coiling snake and its unbearable weight. But in time, I’d shared with Kiva, and then Caliza and Caylus, and I’d walked myself out of the darkness that had engulfed me.
