Page 45 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

Her heart fought against her rib cage to escape.

Torin gave a half smirk as he prompted her again, “Well?”

“I am not sure if I am ready,” the honesty fell from her mouth.

“Don’t worry.” He examined her face thoroughly, a note of concern tying at his brows. “Everything will be fine.”

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Gideon appeared from the dining hall. Her heart stopped. She had forgotten he would be wearing the same guard regalia. His eyes met hers, and something punched into her chest as she saw the pin of House Earth upon his chest beside his clan’s crest.

“I will give you two time alone,” was all Torin said before vanishing quickly. She heard him bark orders before he slowly disappeared into the fuss of departing.

Gideon strode up, positioning his feet shoulder-width apart as he settled in front of her.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” he said, dipping his gaze before bringing it back to meet her face.

He was beautiful. His emerald eyes contrasted against the grey of his uniform perfectly, and his hair sat messy and wild atop his head. And his lips, lips that she had once kissed, relaxed into a lovely, polite smile. Always the gentleman.

“I did,” she said back. “A little too much fun, perhaps. The wolves led me astray.” She allowed a small laugh to break free.

“I don’t think anyone could lead you astray, Emara Clearwater,” he said, smiling back at her.

“True.” She chuckled, raising one eyebrow. “I take full responsibility for my behaviour.”

Gideon’s laugh was small this time. “It was good to see you having fun. You needed that.” He nodded, and Emara held in a gasp at his observations. “With that being said”—he shifted the weight of his body from one foot to the other—“make sure my big brother doesn’t get himself into any trouble.”

“I don’t think the Gods themselves could stop that from happening.” She looked over to where Torin stood. His face was unreadable as he observed the hunters’ preparations.

“Well, maybe not the Gods,” he said, “but funnily enough, he listens to you.”

The comment snapped her attention back to Gideon.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You would be surprised at how much he has changed in the short span of time since you have been here.” Her face must have shown either shock or disbelief, as Gideon said, “It’s true. Somehow, you make him a better person.”

Her heart lodged into her throat.

It was so strange to hear those words come from Gideon’s mouth, especially when, before the Uplift, she would have wished it were him she made a better man. Not that she had to, because he was already a good man, a man loyal to his oath and duty. But it felt like so much time had passed since he had kissed her in the gardens, since their eyes had locked together to create something special that first time in her infirmary room. Even when it had been no time at all…

Emara had to admit that something had changed deep from within her, a shift she couldn’t explain. Maybe she would never be able to explain it.

Instead of trying to fathom her surreal feelings, she simply said, “I hope you have safe travels, Gideon.” She placed a hand on his arm, and he watched it touch his tunic. He looked up. “Don’t get yourself hurt; I am counting on seeing you well at the ascension ceremony.” She managed to smile through an emotion that sunk her heart into her stomach.

“I count on making it there safe and well.” His mouth parted, and he took a heavier exhale than normal. “I know my brother will protect you with his life.”

She nodded, a swell of anguish catching her throat. “So, this is a goodbye?”

It felt like that in more ways than one.

“I hope not.” He smiled down at her. “I look forward to seeing you again. Stay safe.” He rubbed a hand over her shoulder and took his leave.

For a moment, she could hear nothing but his voice drifting through her head. She closed her eyes and took a second to normalise her breathing as she made peace with her heart.

Emara followed Torin as he led them out to a small holding behind the tower to a large stable. Horses stood there, eating a pile of thick, golden straw. She had never been in the stables before, and as she looked over her shoulder, she could see the menacing tower looking down on her. From the outside, it looked like an ancient place of worship, long in its stature with railing on the top that looked like a jagged crown. The rusty-coloured brick looked weather-beaten, with square windows barred with old iron. Many of the city folk probably thought the building was used for medicine or healing practices, but Emara could see the magic in its structure.

As the flakes of dusty snowdrifted slowly to the ground, in no hurry to meet their end, she waited for Torin to instruct them to leave.

Magin had been at her heels the whole time as she walked through the gardens, and she wondered how long it would be before she had to advise him that she needed more space than what he was giving her.

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