Page 107
Story: Of Flames and Fallacies
thirty
A SACRIFICE OF VIRTUE
Cole hasn’t made it to dinner. Again. Worry settles in the pit of my stomach like a bag of stones.
“Cole…?” Archie asks at the dinner table. The worry in his eyes mirroring my own.
I shake my head. “He’s just tired. Trying to catch up on sleep. A lot of loose ends from the battle.”
I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Archie or myself.
As soon as I eat my fill, I take a tray of food to Cole’s room.
A drip of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. I don’t know what I’m nervous for, but the prickling unease is undeniable—blooming from every corner of my body. His mother’s ring is heavy and cold on my finger.
I strain to listen for any sign of Cole behind his door. Waiting for any scrawl of pen on paper. Any hushed conversations or deep, sleepy breaths. But it’s silent, so I knock against his door. With no answer, I twist the doorknob and slowly push it open. If he’s out on patrol, at least I can leave the food for him.
As I walk into the room, Cole is lying on his back in the bed. His eyes drag toward me from where he was deep in thought staring at the ceiling. Dark circles edge his eyes, his hair a tangled red mess. The lines on his forehead are etched deeper than before. At least the blood and dirt has been cleaned from his skin and hair.
A cold dagger sinks deeper into my heart as more time passes, and he looks worse. Something is seriously wrong. As I close his door, he pushes himself onto his forearms and sits up. My eyes wander to the cut grazing his cheek, relieved no sign of infection marks his skin. One less thing to worry about.
I lift the tray as I walk toward him. “Hungry?”
“No,” he mumbles.
“Well, you have to eat something. I haven’t seen you eat since the battle—”
“I know. But…I can’t. I can’t eat anything.”
Slowly, I sit next to him on the bed, afraid I might spook him if I move too fast. “Why? What’s bothering you, Cole? I know something’s wrong.”
He sighs heavily and looks down at his clasped hands. “I don’t really know...how to talk about it...”
I place the food tray at the end of his bed and rest my hand on his thigh, brushing my thumb against him in soothing strokes.
Our touch sparks a slight smile in him before it fades. “I…I’ve never killed someone before.”
My thumb pauses on his leg. “But…before I found you, someone said you stopped a rebel group. That you beheaded their leader and put it on a spike near the border—”
“No. While I did stop their group from infiltrating the outpost, Darian was the one who put their leader’s head on a spike, much against my command not to. I took it down the next day. Their leader wasn’t supposed to be executed, he was supposed to be a prisoner. Darian actively defied my orders.”
Silence falls between us, like a knife tearing through the space. I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever been so physically close to him and yet, felt so far away. Like he’s holding me back at an arm’s length and doesn’t want to let me in. After all this time, he’s trying to protect me—but I don’t need his protection.
“You had to do what you had to do,” I whisper.
“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, though. I know it was inevitable in this role and in the military. I just wish I could have…prepared myself…I guess. When I saw that rebel swing at you, it just happened. The thought of him hurting you. The thought that he might kill you and take you away from me. I just—” His head dips low, red hair covering his face as he clears the tension in his throat. But it’s unsuccessful, his voice is still hoarse. “I couldn’t stop myself.”
I nod, struggling to find the words to comfort him. “Hey, you’re a good person. You didn’t mean to.”
“But I did. I did mean to. And in the moment, Iwantedto.” He avoids my gaze, his attention fixed to his hands. The muscles flex beneath his skin as he clenches and unclenches his fists. “And then when we got back and I realized Archie was missing…I don’t know. I swear I could have killed Darian then, too. I imagined wrapping my hands around his throat...” He bites down on his trembling lip. “Gods, I feel fuckingawful. I can’t get it out of my head. That’s not who I am, nor who I want to be. But what if...what if I don’t know who I am anymore? What if I’m not the same person I thought I once was? It—it scares me.”
“Then let me remind you.” I breathe, leaning in to kiss him. To remind the both of us.
This is Cole.
The same Cole who taught me how to make better fish traps so I had a better chance at surviving back in Padmoor. The same Cole who traded me a fire poker so I could give my mother honey when she was sick. The same Cole who playedtea party with his little sisters and would have taken the blame for my father’s journal so I wouldn’t be executed. Who stormed Blackfell, aflame and crumbling, to rescue Archie. The same Cole who risks his life again and again for me. Who loves furiously and defends those who need it with every fiber of his being.
He is courageous. Honorable. Loving. And everything I could ever want in a man.
A SACRIFICE OF VIRTUE
Cole hasn’t made it to dinner. Again. Worry settles in the pit of my stomach like a bag of stones.
“Cole…?” Archie asks at the dinner table. The worry in his eyes mirroring my own.
I shake my head. “He’s just tired. Trying to catch up on sleep. A lot of loose ends from the battle.”
I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Archie or myself.
As soon as I eat my fill, I take a tray of food to Cole’s room.
A drip of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. I don’t know what I’m nervous for, but the prickling unease is undeniable—blooming from every corner of my body. His mother’s ring is heavy and cold on my finger.
I strain to listen for any sign of Cole behind his door. Waiting for any scrawl of pen on paper. Any hushed conversations or deep, sleepy breaths. But it’s silent, so I knock against his door. With no answer, I twist the doorknob and slowly push it open. If he’s out on patrol, at least I can leave the food for him.
As I walk into the room, Cole is lying on his back in the bed. His eyes drag toward me from where he was deep in thought staring at the ceiling. Dark circles edge his eyes, his hair a tangled red mess. The lines on his forehead are etched deeper than before. At least the blood and dirt has been cleaned from his skin and hair.
A cold dagger sinks deeper into my heart as more time passes, and he looks worse. Something is seriously wrong. As I close his door, he pushes himself onto his forearms and sits up. My eyes wander to the cut grazing his cheek, relieved no sign of infection marks his skin. One less thing to worry about.
I lift the tray as I walk toward him. “Hungry?”
“No,” he mumbles.
“Well, you have to eat something. I haven’t seen you eat since the battle—”
“I know. But…I can’t. I can’t eat anything.”
Slowly, I sit next to him on the bed, afraid I might spook him if I move too fast. “Why? What’s bothering you, Cole? I know something’s wrong.”
He sighs heavily and looks down at his clasped hands. “I don’t really know...how to talk about it...”
I place the food tray at the end of his bed and rest my hand on his thigh, brushing my thumb against him in soothing strokes.
Our touch sparks a slight smile in him before it fades. “I…I’ve never killed someone before.”
My thumb pauses on his leg. “But…before I found you, someone said you stopped a rebel group. That you beheaded their leader and put it on a spike near the border—”
“No. While I did stop their group from infiltrating the outpost, Darian was the one who put their leader’s head on a spike, much against my command not to. I took it down the next day. Their leader wasn’t supposed to be executed, he was supposed to be a prisoner. Darian actively defied my orders.”
Silence falls between us, like a knife tearing through the space. I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever been so physically close to him and yet, felt so far away. Like he’s holding me back at an arm’s length and doesn’t want to let me in. After all this time, he’s trying to protect me—but I don’t need his protection.
“You had to do what you had to do,” I whisper.
“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, though. I know it was inevitable in this role and in the military. I just wish I could have…prepared myself…I guess. When I saw that rebel swing at you, it just happened. The thought of him hurting you. The thought that he might kill you and take you away from me. I just—” His head dips low, red hair covering his face as he clears the tension in his throat. But it’s unsuccessful, his voice is still hoarse. “I couldn’t stop myself.”
I nod, struggling to find the words to comfort him. “Hey, you’re a good person. You didn’t mean to.”
“But I did. I did mean to. And in the moment, Iwantedto.” He avoids my gaze, his attention fixed to his hands. The muscles flex beneath his skin as he clenches and unclenches his fists. “And then when we got back and I realized Archie was missing…I don’t know. I swear I could have killed Darian then, too. I imagined wrapping my hands around his throat...” He bites down on his trembling lip. “Gods, I feel fuckingawful. I can’t get it out of my head. That’s not who I am, nor who I want to be. But what if...what if I don’t know who I am anymore? What if I’m not the same person I thought I once was? It—it scares me.”
“Then let me remind you.” I breathe, leaning in to kiss him. To remind the both of us.
This is Cole.
The same Cole who taught me how to make better fish traps so I had a better chance at surviving back in Padmoor. The same Cole who traded me a fire poker so I could give my mother honey when she was sick. The same Cole who playedtea party with his little sisters and would have taken the blame for my father’s journal so I wouldn’t be executed. Who stormed Blackfell, aflame and crumbling, to rescue Archie. The same Cole who risks his life again and again for me. Who loves furiously and defends those who need it with every fiber of his being.
He is courageous. Honorable. Loving. And everything I could ever want in a man.
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