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I reached out, my fingers gently tracing the edge of the bandage. “You’re hurt.”

Rhyan grimaced, pushing my hand down. White bandages poked out from beneath his leather arm cuffs. Burns. He’d been burned by the fucking ropes last night. He shook his head following my gaze.

“It’s all right. It’s healing. And this…” he gestured to his neck, “was from fighting to get you home. Don’t even think of it. Worth it to keep you safe.” His eyes blazed into mine. “I wish you had time to grieve. For him…and for Haleika. And Leander.”

“And for me,” I said. “And what I did. My role in this. And….” I looked back at the fortress.

“You’re going to get through this,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

“My heart literally hurts. And all anyone in there cares about is the politics.”

“I know.” He pulled me into his chest again. “But you will get through this.”

“How?” I asked. “I don’t even know what tomorrow’s going to look like.”

Rhyan sighed. “It will look different.” He squeezed my hand. “You won’t know how. You won’t ever know. But there’s a freedom in surrendering to that. In knowing everything is going to change.”

I pressed my hands to my eyes, trying to swallow back a sob. “Everything already changed.”

“And you fought back when it did, and you survived. Your heart won’t hurt forever.” He placed his hand on my chest, his skin warm, his eyes focused on the skin between my breasts, on the place where the akadim had tried to suck out my soul. The place Halieka had tried to expose before my necklace had gotten in her way. “Remember who you are. A title change does not change you.”

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“You can, and you will. It’s all going to change, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be. And,” he bit his lip, his green eyes still on his hand between my breasts, “just remember that one thing remains constant. My love.”

I placed my hand over his, remembering our last conversation before the arena. “But you can’t live with it?”

“Can you?” he asked.

I closed my eyes. I had been there when we’d left the akadim alive. And I had been the one to end Haleika’s life, even if Rhyan had dealt the final blow. The guilt of knowing I’d caused her pain and had some role to play in the end of her life felt as awful as the loss of my father did.

And yet….

“You told me if you could do it again, if you could relive that night, you’d still save me. I feel the same. When I realized you were in danger, some force awoke inside me. I don’t know what. But it got me up, and it made me act. I can barely look at myself in the mirror for what I did. And yet,” I squeezed his hand, “I would kill her every day for the rest of my life if it meant you got to live.” My voice broke. “I don’t know how to live with that knowledge.”

Rhyan sighed. “I think we live in a world that’s given us terrible choices. And we’ve had to choose as best we could.” His jaw tensed. “Lyr, I love you. But I think,” his lips quirked up, a sad smile ghosting across his face, “I think we need time. To heal. So, we’ll take it. As much as we need. We’ll do what we must to get through this. To learn to live with choices we never wanted to make. And then, when it’s time, we’re going to do what we know best. We’re going to fight. We’re going to tear that rope apart. And we’re going to find our way back to each other.”

“Do you swear?”

“Me sha, me ka.” He fisted his hand around mine, still pressed to my heart, and tapped it twice against my chest before flattening our hands together over my skin. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’re going to be okay, partner. I promise.” He shifted his weight like he meant to step back, his hand pulling from mine, but then we were kissing, his arms wrapped around me as he pulled me closer to him.

“How does it come to be,” drawled a voice, “that a messenger always stumbles upon you two, not just together, but in so compromising a position?”

Rhyan’s arms tightened around me, lifting me off the ground and placing me behind him before he brandished his sword, pointing it straight at Mercurial. “I think you know the answer to that,” he snarled. “You always wait, trying to find the most opportune moment to satisfy your perversions.”

“That is quite an accusation to make, my not-lord. Perhaps the simpler answer is the truth—that I seek her grace, soon to be her former grace, when she is alone. And for some reason, you have a habit of getting her to be so. Oh, but I forgot,” he laughed, “this is because you are a forsworn oath-breaker. Isn’t that right?”

“Leave,” Rhyan said. “Now.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot.” Mercurial’s hips snaked as he sauntered closer to us. He wore a loincloth of Batavia red. The diamonds in the whorls painted across his body glowed red, like starfire. “Magic has its rules. We have a deal, her grace and I. I gave you a full two days’ reprieve, did I not?” He held up his hand, and a gust of wind pushed Rhyan aside. “Put your sword away, my not-lord. I am weary and running short of patience. Next time you threaten the First Messenger, I will fight back.”

“I’m not leaving her side. I’m sworn to protect her.”

Mercurial chuckled. “The one oath you won’t break.” His hair flew over his shoulders in soft shimmering waves that reminded me of the ocean. “How valiant. But on my honor as an Afeya, I will not harm her. I’m merely here to offer my condolences and acquire her grace’s signature on our contract. It’s just business. I’ll note that neither of you have stood trial for your oath-breaking. That’s because of me. And she has not paid yet. So rest assured, no harm will come to her—not from me. Not until the debt is paid.”

Rhyan’s nostrils flared, and his body tensed.

“Hart.” The voice called from Rhyan’s belt pocket. His vadati stone.