“How are you not frightened?” Àrmọ took my hand and put it to his chest, his skin warm to the touch. A rapid pulse raced beneath my palm, as though his heart sprinted across his chest. “I am leading boys into battle, too many of whom are unarmed, and I am endangering you, the woman I love,” he said softly. “I’m terrified.” I looked up at him in surprise. His face was the same tranquil mask he had worn for the soldiers, as smooth as still water. But now he had pulled me beneath the surface with him. It was strangely comforting, knowing I was not drowning alone. Two was too many to be an
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