Sebastian’s head whipped towards her, expression unguarded for the briefest instant. Just fierce and full of love. It took her breath away. He swallowed once, then again, clearly trying and failing to get the words out. He reached for her hand and finally, he whispered, “And I’ll always choose you.”
The moment the words left him, their hands blazed with light. Emerald and crimson twined together, illuminating the room in a russet glow. Tobias’s brows shot up as he watched their magic dancing between them. “By the Four,” he muttered breathlessly.
Sebastian flashed a crooked smile. “Yeah,” he said wryly. “It always does that.”
“Do you have any idea how rare that is?” Tobias asked. “It takes years for most couples to even share a fraction of their magic. For it to happen... this naturally...” His gaze darted between them, sharp and searching. “That’s no ordinary bond.”
Sebastian pulled Kara closer still. “We know,” he said.
Tobias, for the first time, seemed lost for words, awestruck. He drew in a deep breath, and the lord in him reasserted itself.
“Good,” he said at last. “Very good.” He paused, then leaned forward. “Now – tell me. The Fire Shard. What do you need?”
Sebastian straightened in response, voice suddenly steel. “The Shard is too well protected now, I assume, to just break through? Even for me?” His mouth tugged up into a smirk, but his eyes were deadly serious.
Tobias answered his son’s smirk, and for a moment they looked very alike. “Yes. It is well fortified. Sorrel archers stationed on the perimeter–”
“Sorrel?” Sebastian interrupted, looking disquieted.
His father’s mouth was a thin line as he answered. “They insisted. There are Thorne soldiers at the border and surrounding approaches. And the Shard itself is shielded with Fatàn magic, of course...” He glanced between them. “Though that hasn’t appeared to be an issue for you with the others.”
Kara’s heart sank.
How in the name of the Four are we supposed to get through that?
Sebastian didn’t falter. He turned instantly into the disciplined soldier, his tone crisp, clipped. “Then I need the guard rotations. Patrolroutes. Weak points in the line. If you can move a platoon, even for a few minutes, that’s all I need.”
“Yes, I thought you might,” Tobias said, reaching into his cloak. He pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill, and settled himself at the table. “The current protection looks like this...” He began to sketch a neat map, precise and efficient.
Kara moved closer for a better look but something else caught her attention: there was food on the table. Several days’ worth.
He thought about us being hungry.
A small lump appeared in her throat. Her own father left her in nightshade... Sebastian’s was feeding her. For some reason, that made her trust Tobias more than his careful words. Sebastian had seen it too. His gaze lingered on the food for the smallest moment, before he turned back to his father’s map, leaning over it as if he’d seen nothing at all. Absentmindedly, Sebastian shoved up his sleeves, bracing his hands against the table. Tobias paused mid-stroke, quill hovering, and scanned the once-scarred forearms of his son – now healed and perfect. The silence stretched far longer than was comfortable.
Sebastian glanced up, and met his father’s eyes. “What?”
Kara was surprised. There was no shame in his tone, no apology. If anything, it was a challenge. Tobias didn’t answer him. His face unreadable. But then he set his quill back on the parchment and picked up where he left off, like nothing had happened.
Kara sat and listened with rapt attention, but Sebastian drew her gaze far more than the map, the way he leaned over it, sharp and assessing. She hadn’t seen him like this before – utterly focused, calm and collected as he questioned his father on troop placement, terrain, timing. No hesitation. No reckless fury. Only strategy. Competence.
The soldier in command.
Her cheeks flushed in spite of herself.
Why is that so attractive?
“The Shard is held in the heart of the Fire Temple here,” Tobias said as he marked the square bastion he’d drawn. “Fortified on all sides. Sorrel archers will have made their way to their stations by now. Tighter formations to the north and east. To the west lies the bridge – exposed – watched day and night. You’d be killed before you reached halfway.”
Sebastian studied the markings, shoulders tense. “So not the west. What about the south?”
His father inclined his head, tapping the parchment. “The southern terrain is the hardest to defend – uneven ground. But harder to crossfor that very reason. We’ve stationed fewer men there. That’s your best option.”
Sebastian nodded once. “Good. If you shift some of the men north? Thin them further? That should give me enough opportunity to break through.”
Kara gaped at him, incredulous. Break through? He made it sound like storming through a garrison of soldiers was a morning errand.
“And after?” Tobias asked.
