He stopped completely, straining to hear what had made her pause.
“We should change. You have the clothes we’re supposed to wear into town, right?”
He nodded. She set her bag down and before he had a chance to respond, stripped her shirt off to switch them. She glanced up in time to see his jaw slacken, “Hey, eyes off me. Change.” He swallowed hard but turned to his bag, unable to keep his eyes from straining back to her as she finished changing.
He changed quickly. The all black clothes were put back in their bags, and they both wore the softer colors of Calyndor. Clara looked significantly less intimidating. Pretty. While he was tempted to comment, he didn’t want to receive another scowl and thought better of it.
He breathed in deeply, hating every single person at Command for what came next. He grabbed the box he hid inthe bottom of his bag when he had found it that morning, and cleared his throat. “As you know, our roles were written before we were ever called to Command.”
“You sound so serious. This isn’t good, is it?” Her eyes were glued to him, and his heart started pounding.
He tried his best to keep his expression the same. “Just know this isn’t from me. I tried to brainstorm another option.”
He tossed her the velvet box, too annoyed by his role to even hand it to her, and as much as he wanted to catalogue her reaction, he couldn’t keep his eyes on her. He scuffed his toes in the dirt, covering the light fabric of the shoes in a thin layer of dust. He couldn’t believe that Command had forced this upon them. At the same time, why would they care how it affected them? They were soldiers and nothing more. With that in mind, he looked up.
Clara’s mouth hung slightly open, and she gazed at the ring she’d placed on her finger. “I would’ve put it on you, but, well, the rules,” he said, stumbling over his words in the way only she caused. “Wouldn’t want to break them.” Even though everything inside him longed to slip the ring over her finger just to feel her skin once more.
She swallowed hard. “This wasn’t your idea.” A statement, not a question. A reminder. She chewed on her bottom lip, her right hand twisting the bracelet on her left wrist as she stared.
“It wasn’t my idea,” he confirmed, though the admission killed a part of him. He always wanted to be the one to put a ring on her finger, the one to cause that look of amazement to cross her face. The ring he planned to put there was still in his drawer–a reminder. He loved her too much to keep her.
She swallowed again, seemingly coming back into herself. “Command sure has an interesting plan for the two of us.” She met his eyes then, and he waited for the outburst or frustrationhe was sure would come. She just stared back, no emotions on display.
“It seems that way, yes.” He continued to keep his words careful, waiting for another explosion from her. Waiting for her to scream or shout over the insensitivity.
“So, husband,” she paused over the word, as if she was testing the feel of it. His heart swelled in a way that was definitely wrong. “How are we supposed to do this?”
He shrugged, shoving his ring finger into the thick silver band Command had provided to him. He flexed his fingers, the weight foreign and frustrating. “Follow the rules.” He provided.
25CLARA
The ring felt so wrong–so very wrong, and somehow so right.
Clara could hear people in the distance and knew they were fast approaching a caravan. That’s where their act would begin. Calyndor was close enough most people came by horse and cart. Old fashioned, yes, but far easier and less expensive than navigating the ruined roads with a hard-to-find vehicle.
Her thumb traced over the band, and though she refused to look down again, every sense had become attuned to the ring.
It wasn’t heavy, a thin silver band with a cluster of diamonds. She loved the ring. She’d never admit it to Carver, though. She couldn’t have picked a better one for herself. It was beautiful, and small enough she could flip the diamonds to her palm and make it more discreet. It wouldn’t attract too much attention, yet her new station was obvious. These were all logical reasons to love it. Everything had to be logical.
With the beauty of the ring, came the disappointment Carver hadn’t been man enough to slip it onto her finger. She understood, of course, the rules and all of that. Goodness knows, she was an avid enforcer of every small detail. But still. The one man she’d loved, and she had to put the ring on her own finger. There was more than a touch of irony in that.
“We’re almost there.” Carver interrupted her thoughts, and she stopped twisting her ring as though caught. He glanced at her nervously. It was a new expression on him. She’d never seen his confidence waver.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“I was wondering about you. Are you going to be okay with this role we’re playing?” His words were careful, his intent clear. He was truly worried about her. Ha.
“Do we have a choice?” She provided the answer she thought he needed to hear. She wouldn’t tell him how her heart constricted when she put the ring on her finger. She wouldn’t tell him that she kept glancing at his profile and thinking how much she wanted to be his again. No, she would keep to the assignment. She was an assassin. She was strong enough for this.
“There’s always a choice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Carver, I’ve killed countless people. This will be a breeze.” Her tone sounded far lighter than she felt, and she was proud of how well she was already acting. She could do this.
His cheeks flushed, but he nodded. When they were close enough to hear the individual voices, he reached out and took her hand. For a second, his touch froze her blood and she wanted to rip her hand away and punch him. Hard.It’s not his fault.She reminded herself as she took a deep breath in and forced a smile to her face. It was difficult at first, but after a couple minutes her smile felt almost natural.
Every brush of his skin across hers as they held hands and walked was a beautiful agony. His hands were more calloused than they were before…before her world fell apart, before they ended up here. Before.
“We don’t have to do this,” Carver whispered as they saw the group of people.
