CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE #2
Finally, Brea’s eyes lingered on the blade in her hands as she whispered, “Mi’caro.” Her gaze met his. “My heart.”
Thom’s pulse stuttered.
Ilain was right.
Fighting to gain some semblance of understanding, Thom ran a hand through his hair. He grappled with the nickname’s meaning. My heart. Such a tender endearment. And she’d given it to him after only a day.
“It was me?” Thom gasped, locking eyes with her again. “This whole time—the man you want to be with but can’t—it was me?”
Brea shook her head furiously. “No!” she insisted, then grimaced. “Sort of. Listen—” She stashed the knife and held out her hands. “It’s hard to explain, but . . . I was in love once, and the moment I saw you . . . You remind me of him.”
Thom blanched. “So it isn’t me personally? I’m just your chance of being with this man you can’t have?” He wasn’t sure if that situation was better or worse.
“Thom—”
“No, it’s—that’s great, actually,” he said wryly. “Helps me feel a little less bad for you, knowing you’re using me to reconnect with your past lover.”
Brea scooted closer to the mattress’s edge. “It isn’t like that,” she protested. “Yes, you look and act like Adie in many ways, but he wasn’t—” She broke off, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
Adie. A moderately common pet form of Adem in Ephria. As a child, Thom had a friend they’d called Adie. He’d been drafted, too, and Thom had no idea where he was now, like so many of his childhood friends.
Carefully, kindly, Thom asked, “Do you want to tell me about him?”
She looked shockingly fragile as she sat there, the oil lamp’s rusty glow casting stark shadows over her dark skin. “He was an Ephrian sailor,” she said softly. “He came to Tanemisa on a merchant ship. I was training there, and we met at a tavern.”
Thom quirked his brow, realizing they had met at a tavern too.
“We became friends,” she continued. “He, uh—he was like you: dark hair, tall and muscular, bright, clever eyes. A total shit.”
Thom couldn’t help his grin. “You have terrible taste.”
“And terrible luck,” she said with false humor. “Despite myself, despite knowing he wasn’t magical, and we couldn’t have a future, we fell in love, and he . . . he asked me to marry him.”
Knowing the story couldn’t have a happy ending, Thom asked, “Did you say yes?”
“No.”
Thom frowned. “You refused him?”
She merely nodded.
“Why?”
“He wasn’t magical.” At Thom’s rueful look, she held up a hand. “Before you tell me what a horrible person I am, I know. I was young; the Alliance had just found me in Giyda, and I was scared. I’d made promises to the Alliance. I’d found a purpose for the first time in my life. And then Adie . . .”
Brea sighed. “If I could go back, I would change my answer. But I can’t.”
Thom cocked his head. “You could always find him again.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“He’s married?”
“He’s dead.”
“Oh.”
Brea gave a forlorn smile. “A week after I refused him, his ship returned to Ephria. They hit a storm, and it ripped the ship apart. He drowned. His body washed ashore. He had no identification except for a letter from me in his pocket. They returned it to me, and that was it. I’d lost my chance.”
They both stared at the floor after that.
Thom didn’t know what to say. It was a heartbreaking tale, yet she’d said she was young.
It likely happened over twenty years ago, if not longer.
She’d moved to Wauld, became a soldier for the Alliance, and lived an entire other life.
The pain couldn’t be as strong as it once was.
Yet, he knew it was devastating all the same.
“I called him mi’caro,” Brea admitted hollowly.
Thom’s gaze flashed up to find her watching him.
“When I met you,” she continued quietly, “you reminded me of him. It slipped out, and I told myself it didn’t matter because it was a joke.”
Thom nodded, understanding.
Brea’s expression tightened with pain. “But the more I got to know you, the more I saw your differences. And the thing is . . .” She stared at him, her eyes haunted. “The name became true.”
Thom’s blood ran cold.
“I’m not in love with you,” Brea promised hurriedly. “But my heart . . . It does feel for you, as it did for him. And Ilain was right. I chose you over Auden because of my feelings for you.”
Thom hung his head, eyes trained firmly on the floor. “Brea, I—”
“You don’t have to let me down easily,” she said. “I know it isn’t mutual.”
The bed creaked as she leaned forward. “And I don’t want it to be, Thom,” she swore.
“I had love with Adie. I don’t care to replace it.
It is my burden to carry on with my promise to the Alliance.
I will marry and Bond with a Mage, I will become Highlady Commander of whatever province they wish, and the rest of my days will be spent in service to my people. ”
It sounded so wrong to Thom. Such a dreadful sacrifice for such a noble cause.
“You shouldn’t have to do that, Brea,” he said.
“It’s all I have left.”
Several moments of silence passed between them.
“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up at her. “I want to be your friend, but if that’s too hard for you—”
“It isn’t,” she said. “I didn’t pull away because I can’t handle your friendship.”
“Then why did you pull away?”
She grimaced. “Because I didn’t want others finding out the truth.”
He nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry you lost him,” he said.
A gentle smile came to her lips. “Thank you.”
Thom studied her in the silence that followed.
Somehow, she looked different to him. The sharpness of her gaze no longer bore hardness but rather sadness.
Her confidence was gentler, her beauty softer.
She was striking, strong, and powerful, but for a whole new reason.
He saw her as she truly was. She’d lived through heartache, and while she hadn’t quite yet overcome it, she was doing her best to live with purpose.
Just like him.
“Thank you,” Brea said again.
Thom raised his brow.
“For this,” she said, gesturing between them. “For listening. For being my friend.”
He pressed his lips together in a smile. “Thank you for wanting to be my friend,” he said.
“Only a fool wouldn’t want your friendship, Thom,” she assured. “You’re far better and far more worthy than you think.”
The affirmation hit Thom with a jolt. “I don’t want to be,” he said.
A sly, cunning grin lifted her countenance. “You don’t get that choice,” she said. Hopping to her feet, she reached across the short distance and slapped his shoulder. “Now, leave me alone so I can get some sleep.”
Thom rose, too, shifting away to give her space. “We’re friends again, right?”
“I doubt it.” At his lifted brow, she teased, “You flirt with your friends, and I don’t care to have my heart toyed with.”
Thom eyed her. “It isn’t my fault that I’m your exact type,” he said. “Why punish me for what I can’t control?”
Settling the blankets over her lap, Brea looked down at him as he lowered himself to the bedroll on the floor. “Allore gives us all an affliction to bear, I suppose.”
“Then friends?”
“Friends,” she confirmed.
With a satisfied nod, Thom lay down, rolling onto his side to face the wall. “Goodnight then, Brea.”
Brea turned down the oil lamp, leaving the faintest orange glow for Rafferty’s late arrival. The bed creaked as she shifted down, and the room fell silent.
“Goodnight, mi’caro,” she called playfully.
Thom smiled, tucking one arm under his lumpy pillow. He might not have decided on his true purpose yet, but he had time. For tonight, at least, he’d set one thing right.