He doesn’t answer immediately, and I wonder if he’s actually considering what I’ve said. The seconds stretch, andfinally, he speaks, his tone measured. “I meant it when I said you’ll be safe where we’re going.”
“Safe?” I echo, incredulous. “What does that even mean? That I won’t be killed? Great. But there are a thousand ways in which a person can be unsafe.” The words pour out of me, a cascade of fears I’ve been holding back over the last few days. “You can be safe from physical harm but still be unsafe in so many other ways—emotionally, mentally. Will I be isolated, locked away like some caged animal? Or maybe manipulated, lied to, controlled? What if I’m forced into a life I don’t want, with no choices, no freedom? What if I’m treated like an object, or worse, like a weapon?”
Tugging at the cuff at my wrist, I push down my memories of being Samfer’s ward. And all the ways someone can feel like they’re fighting for their life with their life never actually being in danger. My voice falters, but I push on, the fear driving me, my voice rising with each word. “What if I’m used for my powers and then discarded when I’m no longer needed? Or what if I’m kept alive, but my mind is broken, shattered by things I can’t even begin to imagine? You say I’ll be safe, but what is safe about all that?”
He stiffens behind me, like the truth of my words has landed harder than he expected. It’s as if he hadn’t considered the things I’ve said, as if his concept of safety was simpler, more straightforward. Or maybe he just wanted it to be.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to ask the question that’s been gnawing at me. “And… once we get there… will I see you again? Any of you?”
The question lingers between us, and I’m surprised by the ache that accompanies it. Against my will, I’ve come to care for them—all of them. And maybe one more than the rest. The thought unsettles me, but I can’t deny it.
Rylan’s voice breaks through my thoughts, softer this time. “Do you want to?”
I’m caught off guard by his question, and for a moment, I don’t know how to answer. But then I find myself smiling despite everything. “Who else will give you such a hard time? I wouldn’t want you going soft on me.”
Rylan’s voice takes on a rare playful note. “I suppose I will miss being constantly irritated by you—it makes sleeping on the frozen ground with three snoring, smelly soldiers seem almost enjoyable by comparison.” Before I can elbow him in the ribs, he shifts back into his usual guarded tone. “I don’t know for sure if you’ll see any of us again,” he says quietly, the weight of his words settling over us like a dark cloud.
I nod, though he can’t see it, my heart heavy with the understanding that whatever bond we’ve formed may be fleeting, just like everything else in my life. “So I was just a mission?” My voice is sharper than I intend, tinged with bitterness. Why, I have no idea. A week ago we were complete strangers. What else would I be if not just any other mission?
He doesn’t reply, the silence that follows louder than any answer he could’ve given. The truth of it is too harsh to be spoken aloud, and the realisation dries my mouth.
“And you’re a King’s Guard, so… you’re taking me to the king? Why? What could he possibly want with me?” I press on, the anger bubbling up now, unchecked.
His entire demeanour changes in an instant. His posture stiffens, his jaw tightens, and when he finally speaks, there’s a warning edge to his voice. “That’s enough questions.”
But I can’t stop.
The anger, the helplessness, it all surges forward, demanding to be heard. “No! After you deliver me like a slaughtered pig to the capital, do you know what you’ll be doing tomorrow night? Next week? Next month?”
He hesitates, and then his answer comes, clipped. “In some respects.”
“Then you’re enjoying a freedom that you’re not affording me,” I shoot back, my words laced with bitterness. I pull my arms tight around me, shifting forward in the saddle to separate my body as much as possible from his. “When you don’t have any control over your life, have no say in what is happening to you, come back and tell me just how ‘safe’ you feel.”
I can feel the sting of my words hanging in the air, but I don’t care. I’m done. I shut down, turning my attention away from him, refusing to engage any further. He might have his mission, but I have my own battle to fight—one where I have no idea who the real enemy is. The silence between us returns, but this time, it’s thick with the forthcoming farewell and with the things that will forever go left unsaid. And this time, I’m determined not to break it.
I can’t sleepon our last night on the road.
Sitting by the fire, I thread a needle through a torn pocket on Janus’s jacket, my hands moving on autopilot as the tear slowly closes with each stitch. The rhythmic motion is soothing, but it does little to quell the thoughts swirling in my head. The jacket smells like home—a mix of woodsmoke and fresh dirt, something uniquely Janus—and my chest tightens at the thought of the village and all my friends I left behind.
The soft crunch of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to find Mathis approaching, his easy smile brightening the dim light. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, plopping down beside me without waiting for an answer.
I shake my head, grinning. “Just trying to mend this jacket. Can’t have my friend thinking I can’t take care of his things.”
Mathis chuckles, watching me work. “Look at you being the dutiful housewife, Eira,” he teases, his tone playful. “I mean, if I had someone like you back home patching my clothes, I’d be coming up with excuses to tear them just to keep her attention.”
I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “Please. Like you need a reason to tear your clothes off. And I’m no seamstress. My friend will probably get this jacket back with more holes than it started with.”
Mathis raises an eyebrow, leaning in just a bit closer. “Ah, but I bet you’ve got more to offer than just sewing skills. If I weren’t so dashing, I might be worried about the competition for you.”
I roll my eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “But you’re not because your rugged charm is just so irresistible?”
“And yet you’ve been resisting just fine.” He winks, and I let out another laugh. It’s nice to have moments like this, where everything feels normal. Almost.
“I’m just trying not to have my poor weak heart broken, remember? Wouldn’t want you to be responsible for my death. What would Rylan do without his one and only friend? I don’t think he’d recover from it!” I expect him to laugh, but Mathis just stares into the fire for a moment, his eyes hazy with melancholy. It unnerves me, so I reach over with my foot and nudge him. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Mathis shakes his head, like he’s erasing a memory from his mind, and then, with a grin, reaches down and grabs my offending foot. “It’s a crime to assault a King’s Guard, you know!”
I laugh and try to shake him off, but he holds tight. “Mathis! Letgo!”
