Page 20 of Unravelled
“Where have you been?” His voice was low, strained, each word dragged from somewhere deep. “And Tharion?”
“I…” she started, but her voice wavered, barely rising above the sudden ringing in her ears. The moment pressed in too fast, too close. His touch. His words. A memory flickered to life within her.
???
Starlight, the sweet scent of flowers, summer breeze, Tharion taking her arm, standing under the tahla tree, bright green eyes. A declaration, hands holding her face, a heated kiss...
???
Mira blinked, startled as vivid memories surged through her, unbidden and sharp. But before she could say a word, Torvyn stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Ren’s shoulder and shifting slightly to stand between them. Not aggressive, purposeful.
“That’s enough, Ren.” His voice was even, but carried a sharp edge. A warning wrapped in civility.
Her breath caught. Ren’s eyes locked onto hers, searching, unrelenting, like he could see straight through her. His hands dropped from Mira’s face, but his jaw clenched, as if holding something back. His gaze remained locked on her. Torvyn didn’t flinch. He didn't move from between them. Mira took a slow breath, grounding herself. The heat of Ren’s touch still lingered against her skin, but she pushed it down, pushed it back.
“I went for a walk with Torvyn,” she said, voice calm, the weight of the moment still pressing against her chest. “I don’t know where Tharion is.”
As if her words had summoned him, Tharion steppedout from the alley behind her, his approach smooth, measured. Mira turned toward him and froze. His leatherarmor was streaked with dirt and ash, but he moved with an easy, almost careless stride. He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze swept past her like a patrol checking the perimeter, not the people.
Ren eyes flicked sharply to Tharion, his voice tight and low. “Where the hell have you been?”
Tharion’s expression didn’t flicker. “Patrolling the outskirts,” he said. His eyes shifted to Mira just a glance, then back to Ren. That brief glance had landed like a blow. Distant and detached. Not suspicion. Not concerned. Just… nothing. Only hours ago, his voice had been softer. His touch had calmed her. There had been warmth. Real, steady warmth. But that version was gone now.
“It’s late,” Tharion said evenly, turning to her. “I’ll take Mira back to our tent.” She nodded numbly, falling into step beside him. She didn't look back but she felt both Torvyn and Ren watch her walk away.
The walk to the tent was steeped in silence, every footstep marked with quiet tension. Tharion’s movements were precise, controlled. When they reached the tent, he held the flap open for her. He didn’t speak as she passed, simply stepped in after her, letting the canvas fall closed behind them.
Inside, the lanterns cast a soft, flickering glow across the tight space. Shadows danced along the seams of the walls, folding them in. Mira stood still. The warmth of the tent did nothing to chase off the cold knot forming in her stomach. She watched Tharion, but he was shut off, like a gate slammed closed behind his eyes. Distant. Controlled. Like that afternoon hadn't happened at all. Why had he even come after her if he was going to look right through her? And then it hit her, he hadn’t come after her. He’d been following her.
Her thoughts twisted in on themselves, spiraling between confusion and anger. He hadn’t just followed her. He’d watched from the shadows, silent, like she was someone to be kept in check. Like she wasn’t worth trusting to breathe on her own.He hadn’t taken her choices outright, no, he was smarter than that. He let her believe she had freedom, gave her the illusion of choice… while keeping a hand on the reins the entire time.
Mira turned to him. “What was that back there?” she asked, voice sharp. She took a step forward, arms crossing tightly over her chest. “You were watching me.”
“Not you...” Tharion replied, voice calm, but low. Mira froze. Torvyn, he was watching Torvyn.
He continued, “I didn’t know for sure. Not until I heard it myself.” Mira’s chest tightened. The truth settled over her like ice. He’d heard the speech, their wholeconversation. He knew she’d been ready to steal from him, and he didn't seem to care. She didn’t know why, but this landed like a bruise on her heart.
She looked at the floor, “I don’t want to betray you, Tharion, but these people…”.
He cut her off, “You’re doing what I should’ve done.” He reached for her hand. She flinched, but didn’t pull away. His touch was gentle. When he let go, something small and metallic remained pressed against her palm. She looked down.
The key.
Surprised, she looked up at him. He nodded once.
“These people need a chance, Mira. A fighting chance. I’ve been trying to protect them, but it's not enough”
She shook her head, heart pounding. “This is treason.”
“No,” he murmured. “This is their survival.”
Without another word, Tharion turned away and began removing his armor. Unfastening the buckles with steady hands. The leather creaked softly as he laid it aside, piece by piece, breastplate, vambrace. Mira watched him in the dim light, the lantern glow catching on the sharp angles of his face, the worn creases of his expression. The silence between them pulsed like a second heartbeat.
For a moment, just a flicker, she saw him, the Tharion she remembered. Not the soldier who kept her at arm’s length, but the man beneath it all. The strong, clever, and quietly steadfast man. The one who cared deeply, not just for her, but for the kingdom, its people, and the duty he bore with pride.
She swallowed hard. “Come with me,”
Her voice was soft, but it carried. Tharion’s hands stilled for a moment, then resumed setting the last piece of armor down beside the bedroll. He straightened and met her gaze.
