His brow instead furrowed at the empty room. He peeked into the bedroom and bathing chamber, also finding those empty.
It wasn’t until he noticed the cracked window leading to the ledge-like balcony that he realized where she was.
He slid the window open, stepping into the comfortable afternoon air. Mariah was tucked against the wall, legs curled in front of her, chin propped on her knees. Andrian wordlessly slid down beside her, brushing her shoulder with his.
She said nothing in greeting, but leaned into him, and it was all the acknowledgement he needed.
Something like conflict spilled across their bond. Conflict and confusion and frustration. A dangerous, swirling mix.
He didn’t ask her about it, though. He knew she’d tell him when she was ready. Given what she’d spent the day doing, he figured it had something to do with the rest of her Armature.
He hoped they were all okay. They were his brothers, too. Mariah had seen them more recently than he had, and gods, did they even know he’d escaped Khento? Or did they all think he was still trapped there in that corrupt castle with sins that bled from the very walls?
Mariah drew in a deep breath. Her eyes were tired, a heaviness lingering in her expression, even though the edges of her mouth tipped into a soft smile.
“How did the meeting go?” Her quiet question was so hopeful. A muscle ticked in his jaw and he turned away, fingers curling into a loose fist.
“That bad?”
Andrian glanced back at her. “Not bad,” he answered aloud. “But not exactly good, either.”
Mariah’s expression remained neutral, brow lifting expectantly. Andrian fidgeted, picking at a non-existent speck of dust on his pants.
“TheVigamorwill help us,” he said.
“But?”
“But it will take months for them to raise their full force. They can try to muster a local battalion from those here in Eyarfell, but they need two weeks and it would consist mostly of greenvolunteers. Most of the seasoned fighters live outside the city, wanting their little slice of peace.”
Mariah faced the cliffside view, head leaning back on the stone wall.
Fuck, he hated this. She’d asked him to do this for her, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d failed.
He’d promised her an army and was instead giving her nothing more than a few half-hearted prayers. Against the might Kol was raising in the south, it was meaningless.
Shadows writhed in his chest, clawing up his throat, self-loathing rearing its head?—
“Stop that,” she said quietly, gently. Her head tipped toward him, green eyes taking on a familiar hardness.
“You did all you could. The news from theVigamoris not your fault—nor is it something I blame them for. I’m disappointed, but it's with myself for waiting so long. Not with you or anyone else.”
“You being in my head is exhausting.”
“Good, becauseyouare exhausting.” The corners of Mariah’s mouth curled into a real smile, one that he still could never believe was meant for him.
Andrian draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her in closer to his body. She curled around him, nestling into his chest, and the weight below his heart lightened just a touch.
They still had no plan, no decision, but at least they had this. And for now, until the world decided to swoop in and destroy their delicate peace, it would have to be enough.
Which, it turned out, was right now.
The wall at their backs shuddered as the door to their apartments slammed open. Mariah jumped to her feet, Andrian right behind her, facing the open window to the room.
Andrian relaxed a fraction when he saw Matheo’s mussed brown hair, but the tension didn’t leave. Especially not as hetook in the nervous line of the younger warrior’s body, the frantic gleam in his eyes, and the weather-worn scroll clutched in his hand.
“Matheo?” Mariah pushed through the window back into the apartment. “What’s wrong?”
Matheo swallowed, chest heaving, as if he’d sprinted all the way up the mountain. He handed the rolled scroll to Mariah, bouncing from foot to foot.
