Chapter Twenty-One #2
Before we climb down from the walls, I take one last look at the fire in Adria’s camp. The flames have spread further than we expected, catching on several surrounding tents and even the nearby catapult.
“They really must have a water-born shortage,” I say to Ronan. “This may turn more into Seth’s original plan than we bargained for.”
“I hope not. Fire is a terrible way to go. At least they’re ringing the alarm. Hopefully most of them will wake before their tents burn.” His eyes are earnest, full of genuine hope that everyone will be alright.
Oh, Ronan. You and your infinite compassion. I reach over and pull him to me, kissing him hard on the lips.
“What was that for?”
“For being the kind of person who deserves to be a little cocky.” I raise my eyebrows at him in warning. “A little.”
“Oh, there’s nothing little about it,” he says with a wink. “There! That one was better, don’t you think?”
I laugh and push him towards the stairs. Tonight, we deserve a moment of joy.
There’s sure to be more fighting to come before it’s all over, but tonight, we’ve pushed back death just a little further.
Tonight, I held the power of life in my hands, and I’ll never forget the way it made me feel.
We don’t know the true extent of our success until the morning. We wait at the docks beneath the palace, the water casting glimmers of light on the walls, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the rocky shore.
Messengers and scouts come and go while we wait for the fire team to arrive, reporting damages and losses from their vantage points on the walls. Ronan had hoped to go see for himself on Kira, but they’ve moved their ballistae forward to protect their retreat, putting her at too high of risk.
“So the retreat is certain, then?” Ronan asks the tenth scout we’ve seen this morning. “You’ve seen it?”
“Packing up tents as we speak, sir. They’re down to two catapults. Both are making an attempt on the western walls, but General Orinsen believes we can take them out with a small sortie.”
“Tell him to wait for me. I’ll lead it.”
My heart flutters nervously, thinking of Ronan out there on the battlefield.
I know that this is the type of commander that he is—the type that fights on the front lines himself, not the type that sits at the back avoiding danger like my brother.
And I admire that about him, but I’m also terrified for him.
“Let me come with you,” I say. “Let me fight this last fight by your side.”
He cradles my head in his hands. I can feel the fight he’s having with himself.
“I want you with me at all times, but the battlefield is a dangerous place, even for just a small operation like this one. I know you can hold your own in a fight, and I don’t doubt you’d be useful out there, especially if they have shadow-born.
But there’s a massive part of me that wants to forbid you from coming because I can’t handle it if something happens to you.
And I know that’s overprotective of me, but it’s how I feel.
I want to protect you, my love, especially from this. ”
“I know,” I say, reaching my arms around his back. “I feel the same way about you. You don’t have to go.”
He smiles lightly. “I do. I won’t ask my people to lay down their lives for me unless I’m willing to do the same. I hope you can understand.”
“I do understand.” I inhale sharply, knowing what I’m about to say. “But they are my people too. They will be my people one day. Let me fight for them.”
There. It’s a small admission in the grand scheme of things, an acknowledgment of what we’ve already admitted to each other. A desire for a future, a future where I’m his consort.
A future where I’m his queen.
But I know how much it means to him. I know it before I even say it.
And I say it anyway.
I want this.
“Oh, Sylvie,” he says, his hands running through my hair, pulling me into his embrace. “How could I ever deny you?”
We’re still holding each other when we hear the splashing of oars through water. The Pegasus has returned.
I rush along the dock, trying to see who’s onboard. I spot Octavia first, then a young man I don’t recognize, and then Vesper. They’re laughing raucously, drinking rum straight from the bottle.
And then I see Vesper pass the bottle to Larus.
“Larus!” I shout. Thank the gods he’s alright. I’ve been worried sick all night.
“Did you see it? Did you see what we did?” yells Vesper. And then she spots Ronan. “Oh, your majesty!” She bows elaborately, nearly losing her grip on the bottle.
Octavia snatches it before it drops, taking a deep swig.
“We only started drinking once we reached the Gap,” says Larus, covering a belch. “I’m not sure how they’re already drunk.”
“You only started drinking then,” says Octavia, her voice a song sung out of key. “I told you we were safe once we cleared those patrols.”
“I take it all went according to plan then?” asks Ronan.
“Oh no, not at all,” says Vesper. “It was crazy there for a minute. All of the tents looked the same. It took us a while to find the right one, but we found it in the end.” She grabs the other man, rubbing his black hair and making a massive fireball gesture with her hands. “Boom!”
He hiccups, and the three of them laugh raucously.
Larus makes his way across the gangplank first, having had quite enough of their celebration. “The mission was a success, your majesty, as you might have been able to guess. The Nithyrian legions are on the move.”
I squeeze Ronan’s hand. Maybe my first sortie will be the last.