Page 16 of Unravelled

Mira spent most of the following morningin the medical tent, her hands busy as she moved from one wounded to the next. She worked quietly but efficiently, offering small words of encouragement where she could.

The scent of herbs and salves mingled with the sharper tang of blood and sweat.

She forced herself to focus on the people.

By late morning, the town was a hive of activity.

The convoy was being re-packed. Supplies and belongings strapped tightly to the carriages, voices rising as orders were barked and tasks delegated.

The tension in the air was palpable. It clung to everything like the weight of an approaching storm.

Once Mira had washed and changed into a simple travelling pants and shirt, she made her way toward the carriage.

Weaving through the chaos, until she spotted Tharionchecking the straps on one of the supply carts.

He hadn’t noticed her yet, his head bent, his fingers tugging at a stubborn buckle.

She hesitated, her feet rooted in place for a moment before she forced herself forward.

“Tharion,” she called, her voice steady but loud enough to cut through the surrounding noise.

He turned, his expression guarded but calm as he straightened to face her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them heavy.

Her gaze flicked to the cart he was packing.

Their theft wouldn’t be reported until they were already back at the palace.

Tharion’s eyes briefly met hers, and after a heartbeat of hesitation he stepped toward her, holding her upper arm and guiding her toward the other side of the cart.

Mira stumbled slightly, glaring up at him. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Just keep walking,” he muttered under his breath, steering her around the back of the cart, away from the watchful eyes of the camp. Once they were shielded by the bulk of the wagon, he released her arm, his touch softening as his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

Lowering his voice. “Mira, we can’t afford to slip up” he said, his tone softer now, though it still carried the weight of his concern. “If they notice anything off about this cart, it’s over.” Mira glared up at him, her frustration bubbling to the surface .

“I know what’s at stake, Tharion. I wasn’t going to…” The sound of approaching boots cut her off. Mira tensed, her eyes darting toward the noise. Quickly, Tharion moved closer. His forearm rested on the wood, not quite touching her, as he leaned in further, his face inches from hers.

Her heart leaped, catching her off guard.

For a fleeting moment, she thought he might kiss her, for the first time since they were bonded, right there in the middle of this chaos.

The thought sent a surge of heat through her, unbidden and impossible to suppress.

She stretched up on her toes to meet him, trying to close the small gap between them.

He shifted, his lips brushing her cheek instead. The gesture was quick, almost casual.

The sound of the boots stopped. Both Mira and Tharion looked toward the source of the noise.

Ren stood a few steps away. The air between them crackled, charged.

Anger. Disbelief. Hurt. It all twisted through Ren’s expression like lightning caught behind storm clouds.

His jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Tharion didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, but Mira recognised that calm. It was armor. Worn and polished. Ren stopped just short of them, his breath shallow. Mira didn’t dare speak. Ren’s eyes narrowed.

“What have you done, Tharion?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

“Is a bonded couple kissing really your concern right now, Ren?” Tharion asked, his tone calm but pointed. He shifted, just enough to place himself between them. Subtle, deliberate.A silent barrier. A protector.

Ren’s eyes slid past Tharion to the her and then the cart. He blinked. A flicker of realization passed over his face.

“Give me the key,” Ren said, voice flat, deceptively calm. Tharion didn’t answer right away. His gaze locked on Ren’s, jaw tensing as the silence stretched. One hand dropped just slightly, toward his belt. Not obvious. Not overt. But Mira saw it.

“You already know I can't” Tharion replied evenly, his voice steady as stone. "The people deserve a way to fight back." Tharion said quietly.

Ren’s gaze flicked past him to Mira. Her cheeks burned. Tharion hadn’t said we. He hadn’t exposed her. He’d shouldered the blame alone, like he always did for her. For all of them.

Mira was finished hiding behind the sacrifices of others. She stepped forward, past the shield Tharion had built around her, until she stood at his side, as an equal. Her fingers slid into his steady, deliberate.

She lifted her chin as she met Ren’s stare. “What we’ve done,” she said, voice clear, sure. “We chose this. Both of us.” The words struck like flint. Sharp. Unapologetic.

Ren didn’t move. His face was stone, but the fire in his eyes blazed for a moment, before it was replaced with quiet grief.

Ren shook his head, “You think this is noble,” his voice low but sharp. “But stealing those weapons, lighting the match before the people are ready, it’s not a rebellion, it’s a slaughter.”

Mira didn’t blink. “You think they have the luxury of waiting? They’re already dying, Ren.”

Ren took a step forward, his tone rising. “And you think putting swords in the hands of terrified people will stop trained soldiers? You’re leading them into a bloodbath.”

“We’re giving them a chance,” Tharion replied calmly. “To defend themselves. To stop waiting for help that clearly isn’t coming.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “You’re giving them hope without strategy. You’re going to burn everything they have left.”

For a long moment, nobody moved .

Ren exhaled, fists unclenching. His voice was quieter now, but no less weighted. “I don’t agree with this,” he said, eyes stayed locked with Tharion's. “Not your methods, or the timing. Not this whole Navigators-damned gamble.”

“But?” Mira prompted, barely above a whisper.

Ren looked at her. His eyes gently held hers, unflinchingly.

“But I believe in the people,” he said. For a beat, the words hung between them.

Honest, vulnerable, and final. Then his expression hardened and without another word Ren turned sharply and stormed off, the echo of his boots fading into the distance.

Mira exhaled, the air feeling lighter but no less charged.

Next to her, Tharion’s steady presence remained unmoving.

He didn’t speak. He just watched the corner where Ren had disappeared, the tension in his shoulders slowly ebbing.

He exhaled through his nose, a faint huff that was almost a laugh if there’d been any joy left in it.

Mira turned to him, her voice quieter now, edged with something uncertain. “Do you believe him?”

Tharion turned to face her. “Yes,” he stated simply. “I do.” She studied him, waiting for more.

His gaze returned to the space Ren had just vacated, his jaw working slightly before he added, “He’s always had the people at his center. Even when it didn’t look like it. Even when no one else believed it.”

His voice softened, something almost fond tugging at the edge of his words. “The court sees a troublemaker. A flirt. A loose thread." Tharion sighed "But I grew up with him. He’s always known which walls needed shaking.”

Mira’s brows knit together, questioning “Even if that means breaking the rules?”

Tharion shrugged, “Someone has to. We all have our roles, Mira. Mine’s the soldier but Ren?” He glanced at her again, more certain now. "Ren can see the bigger picture. What needs to be done.”

By the time they regrouped with the others, the sun had risen higher, shadows extending across the camp as wagons were loaded and final instructions given.

They didn't speak about their betrayal the night before.

Their words were easier now, casual. Small things, shared observations as they prepared her carriage.

How the horses were restless and a quiet comment from Tharion about the uneven axle on the left wheel.

Mira replying that it leaned a little on the way.

Nothing urgent, nothing heavy. Just small threads of conversation.

There was comfort in it. An echo of familiarity she had missed.

The convoy set off soon after.

???

Mira inhaled deeply, letting the crisp evening air fill her lungs.

After the stifling confines of the carriage during the first half of the journey, it felt like freedom.

She had managed to pester Torvyn into letting her ride for a while, and she savored the sensation.

The steady rhythm of her horse’s movements beneath her, the open road stretching ahead, the world bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun.

The farmland rolled in soft waves around them, trees casting long shadows in the fading light.

For a while, she simply listened. The rustle of the wind through tall grass, the distant call of a bird settling for the night.

Peaceful. But beneath it all, something stirred.

A restlessness. A whisper in the back of her mind that wouldn’t quiet.

She turned toward Tharion, riding next to her.

“Are our memories returning?" His head snapped toward her, his expression surprised.

She hesitated. "I've been seeing pieces. Flashes of us from before." He went rigid. His grip tightened on the reins, his knuckles whitening. He didn’t answer right away, didn’t so much as blink.

Mira swallowed, pressing forward. "We lost them together.I thought you’d remember too. ..".

Tharion exhaled through his nose, a slow, controlled breath, but the tension in his frame was obvious. “What exactly are you remembering?”