Page 18

CHAPTER 18

AMELIA

THREE WEEKS LATER

I never thought I would be away from Tristan like this. Especially not when we got married. Remembering back to that day, I’m reminded of the person I was, standing at the front of the church. She was unsure of herself, not at all confident in whether or not she’d be able to deal with the pressures of a monarchy. What she wasn’t prepared for was keeping up with her husband via an encrypted phone.

Since we got married, this is the first time we’ve spent apart. Not going to bed with him every night and waking up next to him has filled me with an anxiety I’d never imagined. Every minute of every day, I’m worried that he won’t come back to me. It’s manifested in me losing a few clumps of hair and not eating like I should.

I’m living for the correspondence through that phone, but there’s been none today, and that worries me more than anything else has. Since we got the phone, we’ve kept in contact. Not constant, but enough for me to know he’s okay.

My mood matches the rain pouring down outside. It’s promising the birth of a new season, and I’m trying to take comfort in that. No matter what happens with Crona, a new day will dawn. Doesn’t matter if myself or Tristan are even here. God has promised that the sun will come up tomorrow. It’s hard to remember that belief when the sky around us appears so gray.

“Your Majesty.”

My head shoots up as I hear the voice of a man I haven’t heard in weeks. Parker. My stomach drops to my feet. There’s only one reason he would be here. “Is Tristan okay?” I wait for him to tell me, my heart beating out of my chest. Immediately, the fact I haven’t heard from him hits me right in the fucking solar plexus and almost pushes me off my feet with the force of it. “Please tell me he’s okay,” I beg, my voice watery and shaky. I don’t recognize it, or the person this fear makes me.

He nods, and then from behind him is the best sight I’ve seen in weeks.

My husband.

He’s a little battered and bruised, his hair is longer than normal, the beard on his face grown in. He looks older and even wiser. It’s as if everything he’s been through is written across his face and coming across his eyes like a TV show. Only this isn’t make-believe. This is real life, and if I lose him, it’s not as if he can be revived. I’m glued to the ground for a long moment, but then it’s as if my brain and body come back online. I take off at a run, before jumping up. His arms come around me, holding on strongly.

Tristan’s gotten stronger since he’s left. His body has been honed by what I imagine are hard days and nights. When I pull back, I map his face, memorizing every inch of the man I love, the one I gave myself to. I’ve missed him, and I’m scared to death this is going to be the last time we see each other. His eyes are tracing my face.

“You look exhausted,” I whisper as I track the dark circles marring his otherwise perfect skin.

“I am,” he whispers back. “But I wanted to see you. I had to see you. It’d been too long. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to take the rest of this campaign without seeing you.”

I nod, trying to hold back the tears. His lips meet mine, and as he sets the pace for the kiss, the tears come falling down, just like the rain outside. It’s washing away all the fears and doubts. “I love you.” The words are quiet as he pulls away. “How long do I have you for?” This is what our lives have become. We’re forced to sneak important moments in between military operations and threats to our safety.

“A day, maybe a little more. I needed some time with you, and a good night’s sleep. Parker encouraged me to come home.”

Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. “I’m glad he did. I’ve missed you.” When I pull away, I run my hands up and down his chest, checking him to make sure he’s safe. That no one has harmed him in any way. Tears spring to my eyes again, and my throat tightens as I think about how happy I am he’s here. But at the same time, I realize there’s been a tremendous sacrifice by others. There are plenty of women and men who won’t ever see their spouses again. For now, I’m lucky mine has been able to come back home to me.

Our foreheads meet between us. He rolls his against mine, inhaling deeply, as if he can’t get enough of my scent. I can’t get enough of his either. My fingers are grabbing at him, making sure he’s right here in front of me, and this isn’t an illusion. His deep voice speaks. “I want you right now, but I’m dirty. Can I take a shower first?”

I don’t want to let him go, not even for a minute. It’s too long, considering how few hours we get to spend together. “Can I join you?”

He closes his eyes. His lashes brush against my skin in feather-light touches. “Are you sure? I’m not the man who left here a few weeks ago.”

“And I’m not the woman you left.” I set my jaw, refusing to take less than what I want. We might not have years left, not like I imagined when we got married. “I can handle it.”

His calloused hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I love you, Lia. You’re the reason I do this.”

“And you’re the reason I keep sane, knowing you’re out there. I can’t imagine my life without you, but I also can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

A guttural sound escapes his throat. “It’s hell.”

Tilting my head up, I put a small kiss to his lips. “Then let me take you to heaven, even if it’s just for a little while.”

Finally, he gives in with a sigh. We separate, but it’s as if he can’t make his feet move. I get it. It’s been difficult to put one foot in front of the other while he’s been gone. Reaching down, I grab his hand and lead us to the bathroom. When we get there, I have him sit down on the closed toilet before I walk over to the shower.

He drops his chin to his chest. That’s when I allow myself to take in my husband. His body looks absolutely defeated. Pulling my lip in between my teeth, I bite down hard enough to draw blood, to keep myself from gasping or responding to how much I hurt for him. Reaching in, I turn the shower on, adjusting the water to where I hope it’s warm, but not hot.

Tristan still hasn’t acknowledged what I’ve done when it’s gotten warm enough, and there’s steam filling the room. He’s so stuck within his own head, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get him out. Walking over to him, I shed my clothes, and it isn’t until I unhook the bra and let it fall that he gives me his gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, almost reverently.

I’ve never been at a loss for words with him, but I don’t know what to say. How can I? I don’t know what he’s been through, what he’s seen, and he won’t tell me. Anytime I’ve been able to talk to him, he deflects, which is what I would do, too.

Gripping his shirt in my fingers, I slowly slip it over his head and off his body. It takes everything I have not to have a reaction when I get a good look at his chest. He’s lost weight, and there are scratches, along with bruises, along his ribs. “Tris, what happened?”

Grabbing my hand, he entwines our fingers and brings it up to his mouth, kissing where they are connected together. “War happened, Lia. It’s not pretty. None of it is. There are moments where it’s not as bad as others, but none of it is good. Even the outcome isn’t celebrated, because we know what it cost to get there. I’ve lost a portion of my men. Haldonia is ruined in places. It will take years to rebuild.” He sniffs. Those eyes of his are tortured, and I would do anything to take away his pain. “They hit the royal cemetery, and with it they destroyed my mother’s grave. For that, I will have Calder’s head on a silver platter. He will wish he never met me.”

This is a side of Tristan I’ve never seen before. War brings out the best and worst in humanity. It also opens up a side of people they don’t know they have. This is what it appears to have done to Tristan. He’s hungry for revenge, and in my experience, revenge gets people killed. Terrified doesn’t begin to cover it. “I love you.” I trace his features with the tips of my fingers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he answers.

For the first time since he came home, it doesn’t feel as if those words are on autopilot. The emotion behind them is there.

“Let me take care of you. It’ll soothe a part of me that’s been complete chaos since you left.”

Those eyes are full of pain from the things he’s seen, definitely done, and what he has to do when he goes back. “Let me see the beauty and good in the world, Lia. Show me so that my heart and soul don’t shrivel up and die.”

Those words kill me, and I vow to myself that no matter what I have to do, I’ll show him that I’m here. The rest of us are here, and we need him to continue to fight. I’ll give him the courage to go back out and win the battle for our nation.