The door swung shut behind us.
And then it was just us. The noise of the kitchen faded. The chaos. The laughter. The brothers and their endless competition.
Just me and the Dragon.
His hand stayed on my back as we walked, and I let myself lean into him—into his warmth, his steadiness, the solid presence of him beside me.
"Your brother is impossible," I said.
"I'm aware."
"I love him."
"I know." He moved his hand from my back, grabbed my hand, and then closed his fingers around mine. "So do I. Unfortunately."
We walked in silence for a moment.
The hallway stretched before us. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and thank God that smell of the pyre was gone.
I looked at him. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere private."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting." He glanced down at me, and his expression softened. "I missed you today."
“Me too.”
“As I said before. . .we should talk.”
“We should.” I swallowed and didn't know what else to say. So, I just held his hand tighter and let him lead me forward.
Whatever came next—the conversation, the talk he wanted to have, whatever burden he was carrying—I would face it with him.
Because that's what you did for the people you loved.
You carried it together.
Even when it burned.
Especiallywhen it burned.
We walked a few more steps in comfortable silence.
Then he glanced my way. "Also."
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got a little surprise.”
“Oh really? What sort of surprise?”
“A hot one.”
I blinked.
What the hell did that mean?
