It’s just a name, woman,I scold myself.

“Maeva,” Emyr says in a husky tone.

“I have one more request,” I say.

“Name it,” he replies.

“Don’t stop calling me Rosey. You can still call me Maeva if you so desire, but I’ve grown quite fond of Rosey,” I jest.

He chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Very well, Rosey,” he replies.

He motions toward the others, and this time I do walk away from him.

This encounter feels different from the first in Aurelius.

There isn’t vitriol and anger within our words or actions; it’s most likely just the feeling of relief to have an ally. Perhaps it could be something deeper—something more.

Emyr sees a glimpse of the storms that surround me, and he isn’t cowering from it. He’s embracing it and giving me his word to protect it.

An ally in the chaos…

A friend.

That alone makes me smile.

I watchMaeva intensely as she holds my fourth commander’s hand, while Riordan finishes removing the last shard from his back. Throughout the ordeal, Virgil’s stoic countenance doesn’t even flinch from the pain. A well-trained practice, I suppose. Virgil can become downright lethal when he disassociates if this happens in a battle. However, at this moment, I believe he’s slipped away so he doesn’t have to experience such agony.

No one really knows where he escapes to in his mind when he’s like this, but it’s a habit he’s had since we were teens anytime the training became too intense. However, I’ve always been curious as to what brings him such peace in tumultuous circumstances. He never answers, of course, but I’m sure that says more about his childhood than it does anything else.

His father, a nobleman in my father’s court, made sure his son was a weapon in mind and body—the thought of the imbecile makes my blood boil when I look at the scars he left on his son. What kind of father would do such a thing to their child?

Your father did, Emyr,I remind myself.

I can’t think about this right now, as my sole focus has to be on her.

She doesn’t notice me observing her, as her attention stays trained on him. The hardened look instantly vanishes from his features as he gazes at her with such softness. She whispers to him, to which he responds either in grunts or nods as she reaches for his hand.

What happened in that bloody meeting with Gawain?

I knew she favored him from the beginning, but why’shedrawn to her?

In return, why’sshedrawn to him?

There’s an ache in my chest at the possibility that she’s attracted to him. I know there’s a hidden kindness within my fourth’s heart, but a part of my own wishes that she’d gaze at me with the same level of fondness for more than just the moment we shared.

If I’m being honest, I’m greedy to occupy more of her time… but such thoughts are reckless.

“We need to keep moving,” I say, clearing away any thoughts of her. My father would say she’s a distraction, and that’s something I can never afford to have. “If the basilisk is any indicator, I believe that King Tiernan will continue to send beasts until we arrive at the palace with his prize. So, there won’t be any more stops until we reach the Palace of Nightmares.”

“Palace of Nightmares? Is that in Zulgalros?” Maeva inquires.

“No,” Laisren interjects. “The Palace of Light in Malvoria was renamed the Palace of Nightmares after the Drakhul spread from Zulgalros to this kingdom. The mist changed the palace, in a sense.”

“How so?” Gawain asks, standing too close to Maeva for my liking. By the look of Virgil’s grimace, my fourth commander feels the same as I do about the matter.

Is it too late to put him beneath the ground so we can be free of him?