Page 156 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

But that wasn’t what he did.

That wasn’t what she wanted.

That wasn’t who they were.

Merrick and Lessia… They were respect, they were fight, they were hope, they were… love.

So, instead, he folded an arm around her back and said, “Okay.”

Lessia nodded, her soft skin rubbing against his rough cheek, and they were quiet for a while, listening to the bustle that had picked up on the ships, where soldiers were putting out weapons, where his friends probably shared the final decisions they’d agreed upon today with Loche, where everyone prepared for one last evening before the rebels were expected to show tomorrow.

It wasn’t until Lessia began fidgeting with her dagger, the ruby one his mother had once owned—or at least so he’d been told growing up—that Merrick cleared his throat.

“We’ll get the other one back.”

He’d seen how she often grasped for it—the amber-decorated twin to the dagger now in her hand—the one her father had gifted her when she came of age.

They’d searched the entire ship for it, gone through each drawer and dusty box, but Rioner must have seen it for what it was—a royal weapon—and taken it when he fled the ship.

“Yes,” Lessia said simply as she tucked the other into its sheath again.

“Tell me something,” she asked as Merrick couldn’t help but move her fully onto his lap, securing her legs sideways across his own so he could continue looking at her.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Merrick smiled at her.

The smile was weak. But it was a real one.

They’d started this game on the ship on the way here, when Lessia hadn’t been able to stop herself from asking questions all day, every day. But she’d been too tired at night to come up with new ones—so she’d started asking him to tell her things hethought of—and he loved how it reminded him of when he’d told her how everything had changed between them back in Ellow.

“What’s your family name?”

He shook his head, teasing, “Of all the questions…”

But Lessia only popped a brow back at him, so Merrick shrugged. “Morshold.”

“It fits you.” Lessia tilted her head as if examining him, humming to herself. “It really does.”

Poking a finger into her side until she let out a slight squeal, Merrick laughed softly. “I’ve never really gone by it. Since I never met my parents, it didn’t feel right somehow—carrying a family name when I didn’t have a family. It’s what Raine and the others did, so… I kind of just did the same.”

“I know what you mean.” Lessia leaned her head on his shoulder, holding his eyes whenever her eyelashes didn’t sweep across her fair cheeks. “I know I’ve used the Rantzier name, but after that day… after what he did to my father… I don’t want it anymore.”

Merrick wanted to ask her then.

Ask her the question he carried around like a precious gemstone.

Ask her to marry him—or to allow him to organize a mating ceremony—whatever she preferred, but to do something that would tie her to him, make her his official family.

Ask her to do the honor of taking his name.

Or he’d take hers.

He didn’t give a shit that it was Rantzier.

He’d wear it proudly if it meant his and hers were the same.

But something in her eyes told him it wasn’t the time.

They’d go to war tomorrow, and she… she didn’t want to be reminded they might never get to do it. That’s what the emotions drifting from her told him, so Merrick only held her closerand whispered, “I love you, Elessia. Whatever name you might choose to carry.”