33 Hugo
Hugo
The knock on Hugo’s door sent his heart spiraling into a furious beat again. He’d been on edge since they’d arrived in Lichton,
the small lakeside town that he saw every time he closed his eyes. He gently opened the door, half expecting a mob of people
to rush in and take their bloody revenge. Instead saw Eira, her hair flowing down her back and her bodice cinched tight.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, suddenly worried that something was wrong as he peered into the hallway behind Eira. Where
was Evangeline?
“I was wondering if you wanted to go sit by the lake with me,” she asked, eyes sparkling in the dim, warm glow of the firelight
coming from his room.
Everything was okay. Everything was okay, and Eira . . . wanted to spend time with him. “Yes,” he answered without thinking
twice, grabbing his cloak and throwing it over her shoulders before she could protest, a small smile curling on her full lips
as he did so.
They walked through the hallway and out the back door of the building, trying to keep Hugo’s profile low.
The Lakeside Tavern was aptly named, and as they headed out the back door they found themselves on a sturdy elevated boardwalk, the cold lake water lapping below them, ice half formed on the surface as the last vestiges of autumn’s warmth tried to cling onto this town beside the frigid mountains.
Had Lichton been any farther north, this lake would be ice year-round.
Eira sat down, right there on the boardwalk, the lake underneath her and the star-filled skies above. She patted the spot
next to her, and Hugo sat immediately, close enough to touch.
Their bodies pressed against each other as Eira looked up at the stars. Hugo only looked at her, running his gaze over her
features like he was trying to commit them to memory. To him, she shone brighter than any star.
“What are you staring at?” she finally asked, looking over at him.
“You,” he answered, instantly wishing he hadn’t. Eira didn’t need more emotional tumult right now, and flirting with her—well,
it could mean that she felt even less comfortable. He’d been stopping himself since Evangeline had returned, forcing himself
to tone it down and let Eira guide whatever this feeling was between them.
But instead of recoiling she chuckled, and Hugo’s heart warmed. Eira Eckhart was certainly still Eira, but her walls were
down in this form.
“Are you okay? Be honest with me, no bullshit,” she said, placing her hand on his.
He considered being dishonest anyway; keeping how he was feeling to himself would be easier. He had never been proud of what
he had done, but he was part of the Iron Retinue, and after everything Lord General Kerrigan had done for him . . . he had
felt indebted to the man. When the lord general had ordered him to come to the north to eradicate the witches, he hadn’t wanted
to. But sometimes you had to do things you didn’t want to do for the glory of the Iron Empire, so he’d pushed through.
He’d never forget the townsfolk’s faces as they’d watched him execute the witches here.
Or anywhere. Hugo had never let one of his knights do the dirty work in those first days, even when they’d volunteered.
They should have never had to know what it was like to kill someone who was being executed for no reason other than being different, and he had wanted to protect them from that for as long as he could.
“No,” he finally answered honestly. “I’ve done a lot of terrible things, and I’m grateful that, most of the time, people don’t
recognize me.”
He watched her for a response, always waiting to see if what he said would be the thing to finally make her hate him. Each
time he revealed something, he expected the moment to come, and it still hadn’t. It didn’t mean it wouldn’t, though. Not with
what Eira didn’t remember yet—what Hugo was still hiding from her.
“Being back here, I can imagine it takes you back to things you wish hadn’t happened,” Eira noted, leaning down and running
her fingers over the half-frozen surface of the water, the shards of ice tinkling softly.
“It haunts me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’ve noticed,” Eira answered, moving her hand to his arm and holding it softly. Suddenly, the cold air around him didn’t
exist; he was all warmth and blistering heat. “That sleep potion that first day we were on the run wasn’t to drug you, you
know. It was to help you actually sleep. You looked more exhausted than someone should after one night of riding.”
“Eira, I . . . I hate myself for what I did during my time in the Iron Retinue. I left to find Evangeline and you but . . .
I also left because it was killing me,” Hugo choked out.
“Horrible things will do that to a person,” she mused.
“I just, I really need you to understand that I’m not the person I was when the Iron Empire rose to power anymore,” Hugo said,
his hand clasping over Eira’s on his arm, begging her to understand.
“Hugo,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Who you were during the fall of the monarchy doesn’t matter to me. That Eira also doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Until you get your memory back,” Hugo said, not letting go of Eira’s hand.
“No,” Eira said thoughtfully. “I actually think she’s gone—at least, how she was before is. I don’t think there’s any way
for me to simply go back to who I was. I’ve had all this time on my own as a free version of me. I think Viscountess Eira
is me, and I’m also Eira Eckhart. But more than that, I think someone new will come out when I’m whole again.”
Hugo liked that. He had adored Viscountess Eira, but he felt something more for Eira Eckhart. Something so strong that it
made his stomach churn in fear at the thought of losing her. He placed his other hand on Eira’s face, and she smiled. “I can’t
wait to see that version of Eira too,” he said.
“I would like to talk about something more fun.” Eira’s smile turned devilish. “I need to know the most devious thing you
and I both did when you guarded my family.”
“Together?” Hugo’s eyebrow raised.
Eira’s cheeks flushed before she playfully slapped his arm. “Only if we did something wild together! If not, you must tell
me if you caught me doing something stupid, or if you got caught by me!”
The two talked until their fingers were numb, the cold settling in as the night got darker. Hugo wished that the hard part
of what they needed to do was already done, so he could exist just like this, forever. He wondered if maybe with Eira he could
find peace—if only in the fleeting moments, like now.