Iryana felt trapped between emotion and reason.
“That will take years, Pyetar.”
“I know.” He groaned and sank into the chair, dropping his head into his hands. “I almost miss when my brother was alive, because at least we spent time together.”
“Time we almost exclusively spent pushing each other away.”
“Except for those few moments when we didn’t.” His voice was rough, and there was heat in his eyes when he looked up at her.
Iryana swallowed. She thought about those times a lot too.
He turned his gaze back to his hands. “I think about you. Constantly. Every time I have to make a decision, I wonder what you would say and wish I could talk to you about it. You’re smarter than all my captains combined.” He chuckled dryly. “And I keep looking for you when I walk around the fort, like I did when you were here. I don’t even realize I’m doing it, and then I am just filled with disappointment when I remember that you’re not here anymore.”
Iryana wrapped her arms around herself, her breath shaky. What could she say to something like that? How much she missed him and hated the way things had to be?
Yet how could any of that change? She wanted it to, but what good could focusing on it do?
“I’m heir to a guardian clan,” she reminded him. “You’re the general of the 18th. My familyhatesthe military.Especiallythe 18th. You’ve been our enemy for years.”
And she couldn’t disappoint them.
“Even after many in the 18th helped oust Karvek? Now that we’re allies?”
“It’s gotten a lot better, Pyetar. And I am sure it will improve as we work together. But they’re being stubborn.” Iryana shrugged. “We may be allies now, but the kind of history our people have doesn’t disappear overnight.”
In truth, a lot of her fear came from the thought of Pyetar changing his mind. Realizing she wasn’t enough. OrIryanaconstantly feeling like she wasn’t enough.
Pyetar sighed. “There is a lot of respect for you here; you won the challenge after all. But…”
“But?” she demanded he finish. Say it out loud.
“But,” he hesitated, sad blue eyes meeting hers. “There is a lot of resentment too, and still plenty of anger at the settlement for keeping the brigades outside their borders.”
“It will take all our energy to keep both sides of this alliance cooperative,” Iryana summed up.
Pyetar was silent for a while, hands rubbing his knees. “We will have to meet occasionally for the sake of the alliance and working together. To work out the logistics. The First clearly intends you to fill that role.”
“Yes, but…” she wasn’t sure where he was going with that.
“Perhaps when we’re alone, we can pretend.”
“Pyetar,” she drew out, voice strained. “What are you saying?”
He lifted his head, leveling eyes swirling with agony on her. “I miss you. Terribly. Every day. And I can’t bear it.”
She sucked in a breath, her face crumpling. Why was he doing this? If she bared her heart to him and then had to walk away, those wounds would never heal.
“What do you want me to say, Pyetar?” she pleaded. “What would pretending change? We belong to two different sides of the wall.”
“I want to hear you say it. That you feel the same.”
“Why?” she demanded. “What good would it do?”
“Because eventually things will be different. And I am tired of waiting to live the life I want. We may have to hide it from your family and my soldiers, but in private I want to fight for this. For us. But I just need to know whether you want me to.”
Everything in Iryana crashed to a standstill. Her heart was pounding, every breath heavy. She burned. She wanted him to fight for her, to give her a reason togive in, to figure it out. But part of her still argued that it would never work out, that they’d just end up hurting each other more than before. Those two sides of her felt like they were ripping each other apart.
“I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper that crept across the room. “I never truly had you, and losing you still torments me.”
