Page 103 of Legacy of the Heirs
“And if the battle doesn’t go well?” Issam asked.
“Then we will all be dead,” Farid replied, nodding at Jabir.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Caellum
Death had never scared Caellum, who had prepared for it from the first time his father pushed him down the stairs. But now, watching how Sadira’s face lit up riding through Tabheri, despite everything they were soon to face, Caellum feared death’s clutches. For both of their sakes. He did not know what to do if he lost her, and if death greeted him first, his regrets would follow him into the afterlife.
Caellum rubbed his eyes to keep himself awake and focused. No one would know from looking at Sadira that the pair had slept for only three hours over the last two days as they spent every waking moment imbuing weapons. Helplessness had settled on his shoulders as he watched Sadira tire the more she did. All he could do was bring her food and force her to take breaks, massaging her shoulders as she did what she could to save the kingdom from darkness. She did it without complaint and did not complain now, either, as she rode through Tabheri beneath the beating sun.
In another world, they would not be riding to the Ashun Desert for war but enjoying an extended weekend break in the city, introducing Sadira to a different realm in the correct way. He would stop and buy her all the sweet treats she stared longingly at from the market and every single scent she smiled at from the stalls. In another world, they had all the time in the universe to learn about one another.
Sadness settled in his bones; there was so much he wished for them to do. He glanced at Sadira again. She was born to be a queen. The Garridon crown sparkled amongst the twists of her hair pulledback from her face. Seeing her donning something other than a dress was odd, but she looked just as powerful and beautiful in her silk-green shirt. Her sleeves billowed as their horses increased their pace. The cream fabric fitted tightly to her legs, tucked into long brown boots and highlighted the curves usually hidden beneath her skirts. Clearing his throat, Caellum looked straight ahead, his mind running away with him.
As they exited the city, the tents came into view, a spectrum of colour against the Ashun Desert.
“It would look beautiful in other circumstances,” Sadira murmured.
“Something can still be beautiful despite the reason for its existence,” Caellum said, and Sadira hummed, frowning. He followed her eyeline to where Soren emerged from one tent, striding in their direction.
“Sadira,” Soren said, not meeting her gaze. Her posture appeared slumped, and dark circles ringed her eyes.
“Soren.” Sadira dismounted from her horse at the same time as Caellum, and Soren took the reins of each.
“The others are still settling; you would be wise to sleep. Debrief starts past midnight in the early hours of the morning,” she said before turning from them, her eyes still downcast.
“Thank you,” Caellum said, though she did not acknowledge it. Sadira approached and looped her arm in his.
“Did something seem off about her?” Sadira asked.
“Because she did not look like she wanted to kill me?”
“Exactly,” Sadira said, and Caellum patted her hand before guiding her through the maze of tents. A nearby soldier pointed them in the direction of their tent, and they passed a large, bright orange dome, where they would likely meet this evening if the number of guards was anything to go by. They continued their walk until they reached the edge furthest into the desert and the tent closest to Garridon. The rulers’ tents were placed furthest from Myara, furthest from Caligh.
Sadira paused to peer across the vast desert while Caellum scanned the inside of the tent. He easily lifted their wooden chests and placed them outside. He sat down, gently pulling Sadira next to him. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned her head on his shoulder. The sands were still, allowing them to take it in. Caellum only realised how long they had sat in comfortable silence when the sun moved beyond the desert, lighting the wisps of sand now spiralling in the evening air like flames.
Caellum sighed with contentment.
“We should really get some sleep if we are to be up in the early hours,” he said, standing and offering his hand to Sadira. She accepted, rising with him. She stumbled and fell into him, unaccustomed to the uneven sand. She braced against his chest as his free arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. He moved to tuck away a piece of hair that had fallen from its twist, slipping it behind her ear while the sunset added to her skin’s radiance, contrasting the green of her eyes that shone brightly up at him. His hand lingered before landing gently on the side of her neck. Sadira slid her hand up his chest and placed it on his shoulder.
“You are beautiful,” he breathed. He meant it every time, yet standing with her against the backdrop of the setting sun over the sands, thinking of how far they had come, the compliment held a different meaning. Sadira’s mind was beautiful, her heart, her soul—everything—and he could not tell if she blushed at his words or if it were merely a trick of the sun.
“You think I am beautiful?” she asked, her eyes flicking to his lips.
“How could I not?” He leaned closer towards her.
“Is this my fairytale moment?” she whispered.
“Is this when I get to be yours?” he asked, remembering the last time they had been so close.
“Whether we return from these sands tomorrow or meet in the forests of death, you are mine,” Sadira breathed, reaching onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Caellum held her close to him as her lips methis softly. He met her with the same tenderness, her lips exactly as he had imagined: sweet and perfect. She gently slid her tongue against his bottom lip, and he did as she desired, welcoming her want for more. The weight of the war fell upon them at the realisation that this could be their last moment alone together. It played on Caellum’s mind as Sadira’s kiss became more demanding. His hand slid into her hair, holding her close as he kissed her back with the passion that mirrored the fires of Keres. Sadira was gentle until she was not.
She turned and led them into the tent, forcing Caellum to duck under the entrance. He had little time to take in the decor but knew it had been set up for royalty as he glimpsed the wooden bedposts. Sadira’s legs hit the edge, and he fell atop her.
“I do not want to do anything you do not,” he mumbled into their kiss. He pulled back to look at her. The opening of her emerald shirt loosened, exposing the swell of her breasts that rose with her heavy breathing. She licked her swollen lips.
“I want you,” she said, reaching for him and pulling him close. “All of you.” She sighed and leaned into the kiss again, her hands frantic as she tugged off his shirt and reached for his belt.
