Page 45 of The Sol Crown (Fractured Lights #1)
He turns back to us then, still in his reinforced leathers, every inch the seasoned soldier. “I’ve received orders from Carter. I’m staying at the border for now, and I’ll escort the incoming forces when they arrive. I need to make sure Halven keeps his word.”
His gaze meets mine, and for a moment, he hesitates—just a flicker—before sweeping his eyes across the group. “You all did well. See you soon.”
We watch as he disappears through the gates, Ford and Everett trailing behind, their silhouettes swallowed by the torchlight and stone. Notably, there’s one figure missing from their group—Ryans. The absence settles over me like fog.
Wordlessly, we begin to load our aching, travel-worn bodies into the carriages for the final stretch of the journey.
Every movement feels heavier than it should, like the exhaustion has seeped into our bones.
The benches creak beneath our weight, and no one fills the silence with idle talk. There’s nothing left to say.
But my thoughts refuse to be still. They run in tangled loops—Stone’s gaze, Halven’s games, the council’s expectations.
I press my forehead against the cold windowpane, watching the world blur past, but nothing soothes the noise inside me.
Every jolt of the carriage feels like it’s shaking loose pieces I’ve been barely holding together.
By the time we reach the castle, dawn is licking at the edges of the sky, and the first birds have begun to stir in the trees.
When I finally step into my room, the quiet greets me.
I don’t bother undressing. My head hits the pillow; the world slips away.
The next day, after a lazy morning and a long, luxurious bath, trying to arrange my thoughts into something that makes sense, I walk back into my room, towelling off my damp hair, and stop short when I see Deacon sprawled across my bed, book in hand.
“I’m sorry,” I say, eyeing the door, “did I forget the part where I gave you a key?”
“Hush. I’m finishing this chapter,” he mutters, eyes locked on the pages like they hold the secrets of the universe. He doesn’t even glance up.
I sigh, squeezing more water from my tresses before weaving it into a quick plait. The wet end trails down my back, soaking the base of my spine.
With a loud snap , Deacon shuts the book and tosses it onto my bedside table.
“It’s just getting good,” he says, “Odio’s about to betray her.”
I pause, raising a brow. “Good? He hands Admira over to the God of Death.”
Deacon shrugs. “He hands her to Miento to protect his realm and people, a sacrifice for the greater good.”
I scoff. “Gods forbid I’m ever cursed with a love like that.”
“I know, right?” Deacon flops back onto the pillows, shutting his eyes. “There’s nothing anyone could offer me that’d be worth giving up the love of my life.”
“Did you come here just to lie on my bed and read my books?”
“Oh.” He sits up, as if only just remembering. “I actually came to see if you wanted to sunbathe with me. Mum packed sandwiches—”
I’m already marching to the door. “You had me at Dalia’s food.” I toss him a look over my shoulder. “Hurry up then.”
We end up propping ourselves against Admira’s fountain, maybe drawn there unconsciously after talking about her heartbreak and betrayal.
The sun beams down on us, a welcome change after what felt like years of cold, and a soft breeze carries the scent of blooming roses.
I devour a baguette stuffed with seasoned chicken and salad, then move on to a little box of herby potatoes drenched in melted butter. I suck my thumb clean to catch the last of the flavour, only for Deacon to pop me out of my food-induced trance.
“So,” he says, prying open a container of fresh fruit and cream, “are we going to talk about it?”
He stares at me, waiting. I widen my eyes, hoping he’ll take the hint that I have no idea what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t. So, I break.
“What, pray tell, are you referring to, Deacs?”
His chocolate eyes meet mine, steady and knowing. “A certain someone you’ve been very deliberately avoiding for the past few days.”
Shit.
If Deacon noticed I’ve been keeping my distance from Stone, then Stone has definitely felt it.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about.” I grab another potato and hope that a full mouth will give me an excuse not to talk.
“You stuck to me like glue the whole journey home. I love you, but it got a bit much when you tried to follow me when I went for a piss.”
I glare at him. “What, I’m not allowed to want to spend time with my best friend who nearly died from altitude sickness?”
“Elina.” His tone is firmer now, cutting through my deflection. “What happened between you two?”
I chew slowly on the potato, the buttery richness turning to cement in my mouth as I wrestle with the question. It’s finally time to admit it, maybe just to Deacon, but that’s something. A step.
“I’ve never felt like this before.” My voice drops, a whispered confession carried off by the breeze. “He drives me to the point of insanity, and I must be clinically mad because I think I like it. ”
Deacon stares at me for a moment, silent. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face.
“It’s finally happening. Praise be to the Gods.” He tilts his head back to admire the cloudless sky, like the heavens themselves have answered a long-standing prayer, before looking at the statue behind us winking. “Admira, you’re a babe.”
“What are you talking about?” I snap, drawing his grinning face back to me.
“Someone’s finally managed to get through that fortress you call a heart.” He meets my gaze, and in his eyes, I see pure joy—real, bone-deep happiness. And maybe even relief.
“I saw it the moment he strode across the conference hall on registration day. You felt it then, didn’t you?”
I nod once, chewing my lip to keep the fear at bay.
“This is good, Elina.” He leans forward and gives my bare knee a gentle squeeze like he’s comforting a frightened child.
“How?” My voice cracks slightly. I don’t bother to hide the fear anymore.
Not with him. “How is this good? I live my life in shadows. Always keeping secrets. Always wearing one mask or another. How could I possibly have a real relationship when this”—I wave my arms around at the world we live in, the kingdom, at myself—“is my life?”
“If he’s the right person, then you can share your secrets, Elina,” he says quietly, reverently. “You can start to let someone carry the weight with you. And Gods, I want that for you more than anything.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. I’m going to confess something I’ve been too afraid to admit, even to myself. But now, here in the sun, with my best friend and the scent of roses all around me, I let the truth out.
“I feel it, Deacon,” I whisper. “A tether between us.”
His eyes widen, and shock covers his face. But before he can speak, a rustle of movement breaks the moment, and Junie appears around the hedge.
“Ah, my two favourite people.” She beams, completely oblivious to what I’ve just partially admitted to.
Deacon recovers quickly, masking the shock on his face with practised ease as he stretches out dramatically on the grass. “Junie, my love, come join us,” he croons, patting the spot beside him.
She flops down without hesitation, already reaching for the container of fruit. “Don’t mind if I do. Barnett just tried to kill me in our one-on-one.”
I smile and settle back, letting her chatter wash over us. Deacon meets my eyes for the briefest second with a flicker of something unspoken, but then it’s gone, tucked away for another time. We just pass around the food, soak in the sun, and let Junie’s voice fill the space.