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There could be such beauty in the world, even in this dark, never-ending forest.
His happiness was her happiness. Not out of loyalty or duty or even just affection, but something deeper, wider, vaster.
“I’d bear your burdens, if you’d let me.”
“I don’t want to be a cause or a burden. I just want to be yours. Your equal…your man. I’m selfish because even though I’m grateful for you coming for me, I want more. I want everything you have to give.”
He couldn’t quite describe it—how he needed her, needed her heart and goodness and sweetness but also needed to give himself away, to her, to her care. An exchange seemed too mercantile. A symmetry, perhaps.
“I’ll always want you. Always. Now take what you want from me.”
She should anticipate things from him—care, loyalty, affection. He wanted her to count on him, expect he’d do anything for her, as her man, as her due.
“I’ve never felt this deeply for anyone, never so much that it could be the ruin of me,” she whispered.
“You’re already the ruin of me,” he murmured.
“I’ve never had someone who was mine…never belonged to someone.”
She was his people, and he’d choose her every time. Always. Because that’s what it meant to be c’vana.
“Stop sacrificing yourself! You aren’t disposable, gods damnit! Why must you always throw yourself in the way?”
It was in her nature to protect, but more, she’d always, always protect him. Her love for him burned in her chest, heart beating sharp and fierce at the thought of Joran or anyone else doing him harm. But there was a sweetness there, too—she’d never been everything to someone before.
It wasn’t war or treasure or even genocide, though he’d orchestrated all those things. King Artemian would settle for nothing less than the annihilation of the avian race, their lives, their culture, proof of their existence. He wouldn’t stop until avians were just a memory, one forgotten in a few generations. Relegated to legend like the dragons and harpies and griffins and centaurs had been, centuries before.
Going to Hadria, seeking out his kin, meant risking everything he loved for a cousin and a people who’d risked nothing for him.
“I hope one day you understand that duty doesn’t outweigh compassion,” she told him, “nor does following orders without question or conscience make you a good knight.”
“My honor demands I do what I think is right, Arion. Not follow orders blindly because someone wearing a crown ordered it.”
“It’s taken me a long time to realize that I have to meet no one's expectations or standards, just my own. I can’t live someone else’s life, only my own. So, I have to live it the way I want to live it.”
