Her breath catches slightly. “What do you know?”
I expected the question. I still do not like how much it matters.
I look at her for one full breath, then another. She should see it. At times I feel my whole body is shouting the truth of her from every line, every look, every instinctive movement toward her. But wanting her to see is not the same as making her able to.
That humbles me in a way battle never has.
“You are not in my tent because of the treaty,” I say at last. “Not in my bed because of the law. Not before the horde because of convenience.”
Keandra remains very still.
The fire shifts between us, sending warmer light over the side of her face. I see the strain of hearing it. The hope too. Dangerous thing, hope. I know enough of her now to know she does not welcome it easily.
So I do not stop.
“I could have left you wife in papers only,” I say. “Protected. Fed. Housed. Kept correctly and with honor. I did not.” My voice lowers further. “I put you where all could see because I wanted all to know I chose you beside me, not behind old custom.”
Keandra’s eyes drop then, just for one second, as if the weight of the words is too much to hold head-on at first. When she looks back up, there is heat in her face and uncertainty still.
She says, “You make things sound so simple.”
The edge in her voice is not sharp enough to be anger. More like bewilderment wearing a little armor.
I let out a slow breath. “To me, they are.”
“That must be nice.”
This time, the answer does almost pull a grim smile from me.
“No,” I say. “Because you are not simple to me.”
Keandra looks down at her hands. “Everyone understood that moment except me.”
“No.” My answer is immediate. “You understood enough. You felt the weight.”
“I felt all of them watching me.”
“Yes.”
“I felt foolish.”
That cuts at me in a place I do not enjoy having touched.
“You were not.”
She lifts her gaze slowly. “I didn’t know what my hands were supposed to do. I didn’t know the pattern. I didn’t know what everyone was thinking.”
“But you stood.”
The words come out low and absolute.
Her expression shifts slightly at that. I know she remembers I said something like it before. Good. Let the truth repeat where needed.
I step closer, close enough now that her scent reaches me fully and the room narrows in all the old dangerous ways. I ignore that and keep my attention where it belongs.
“You think too much of not knowing,” I say. “The horde saw a female who did not know and did not run.”
Her lips part, then close again.
