Chapter Fourteen

“You’re not staying.” My statement was fact, nothing more. We were already halfway to the orphanage, the landscape shifting from the camp of the legion members into a packed road of sand, a path leading toward our impending separation.

"No," his voice was gentle, but couldn't soothe the storm within me.

Tears fell freely now, and this he permitted. I was allowed the luxury of tears, but not the tempest of emotion I yearned to unleash.

His words cut through the air like a blade, each syllable a dagger aimed directly at my heart. "You will be safe," he began, his voice carrying a note of reassurance. "These women, these warriors, they are the most skilled fighters I have ever known."

“But they are not you.”

He paused. I turned back to him. I was wearing Irina’s clothing as a hood, the slit of my light blue eyes the only connection to my vulnerability. I wished for a mask, like his, to conceal the maelstrom of emotions beneath.

My heart was shattering, though I was too young to grasp its true nature. I labeled it anger, frustration, tantrums—anything but the agony of realizing that I couldn't control the decisions of the man I loved, that he could walk away from me at any moment. I was broken.

He recognized it all. He felt it all, my restraint, my brokenness. A strong hand cupped the back of my neck, pulling me into an embrace that was equal parts passion and desperation. His touch traced the contours of my form, his warmth igniting tremors that coursed down my spine. "I am sorry, Irina," his voice was a whisper, softer than I had ever heard it before. "I am sorry that we didn't have more time."

I brushed away a tear, aware of the mess I'd become, my tears marring the Moravyan silk. "I'm sorry I was born at the wrong time."

His hands cupped my face, he was allowing this. Only parts. The pad of his thumb tenderly wiped away a stray tear, his touch soothing. "You were born exactly when you needed to be," he said, each word a testament to his sincerity. "You are the most mature, sacred, wonderful person I have ever known. I am sorry that I cannot offer you more, that I cannot give you every exquisite moment you deserve in your first love." His lips brushed against my temple, a tender kiss that spoke of his devotion.

"Stop," I broke his rules, a swell of anger bubbling to the surface. The foundations of my restraint cracked under the weight of my emotions. "I don't want those things, I don’t want meaningless teenage kisses and rites of passage. I want everything to be you.”

His voice resonated with unshakable resolve, a tone of command etched in steel. "Irina," he breathed, his teeth clenched. His hands were fists, his grip almost punishing. "Your life will go on, and I will fade into memory. You will live a full life—"

“My life will only be you,” I was hysterical now, what I had silently exchanged with him earlier I wouldn’t become. I was limp, shaking, crushed beneath the weight of a world that felt too heavy to bear. "You claim I lack maturity, that you've robbed me of some rite of passage, of youth. But you underestimate me. I know what it is to be alive and not fully living. I know what it is to exist as a ghost."

I could have sworn he stopped breathing.

“I know suffering well,” I continued, my voice gaining strength. "And I know that I will forever gaze into another man's eyes, only to find a reflection of you."

His retort, steeped in raw emotion, caught me off guard. "What would you have me do?" His words were a tumultuous storm, fierce and frightening. "What is your demand, Irina? Raise you?”

A surge of frustration coursed through me, and I wrested my hands from his grasp, my own anger kindled. "How dare you."

"You're not an orphan, Irina. This isn't a form of punishment. It's a temporary arrangement, state-of-the-art protection, the finest the Kaimari can provide. It's because of your family's wealth and influence."

"Don't," my voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt, "you dare."

"You will return to your castle, your planet–"

I moved, a swing aimed at his armor, but he intercepted my fist before it could land. At that moment, the arc of my punch marked the divergence between the Irina I was meant to be and the Shadow that had emerged. A true princess wouldn't have struck him; she would have had the right to claim him. I swallowed hard, realizing the extent to which I was forsaking my own identity, my solemn vow to protect Irina, all for him. I lowered my fist, my gaze unyielding. "You know nothing about me."

The violence had shocked him almost as much as it shocked me. His helmet shifted towards the sands. “I can offer you nothing."

The surge of anger within me transformed into a desperate plea, teardrops blending with my turmoil. "You can offer me your return, promise me a future."

His helmet drew closer, our breaths mingling in the tense space between us. The moisture of my exhale formed a glistening sheen on what would have been his mouth. "I," he spoke, a mixture of anger and remorse lacing his tone. "I will never return for you. I don't want to be with you."

My composure wavered, my lower lip trembling. "You're a coward."

"I understand that you may not grasp the depths of this choice now, but as time goes on, you'll come to see that what I'm doing is an act of honor."

“Dishonor me, then. Take me and my country. Conquer me in every sense as your wife.”

He recoiled slightly, his control slipping, and I recognized the power I held over him, even at that tender age. “By the gods, you're tearing through my armor, Irina!”

“Then just...” My turmoil mirrored his. “Take it off!”

“I would be killed!” There was an uncharacteristic youthfulness in his voice as if we were equals at this moment.

“Then die, and let your spirit haunt me! Offer yourself as my guard. Name me a child if you must and remove your armor like you said I could see you.”

“You know,” his hand snaked into my makeshift cloak and gripped a thick piece of my hair, “you know you are too much woman for that.”

We stood, hearts bared, a chasm of unspoken truths stretching between us. His confession, a secret safeguarded by the armor of honor, would never be fully voiced. There, in the quiet, we shared the weight of our emotions, our breaths like fragile threads connecting us.

After what felt like an eternity, his voice found its way to me. "Come," his whisper was a gentle plea, a lifeline in the midst of the storm. "Let me show you where you'll be staying."

In the final stretch, I swallowed my emotions, a strange calm descending upon me. It was a realization that this ending had been inevitable, a bittersweet acceptance. It was as if I had sensed its arrival all along, and now that it had passed, I was left floating.

The building stood before us, a symbol of my shedding past. "You brought me to a nunnery?!" The words burst from me, incredulous and laced with protest, my hands gesticulating wildly in the air.

His laughter enveloped me, I could have married them right then and there. "It's an orphanage," he clarified, a hint of amusement gracing his tone. "A religious one, yes, but the people here are kind. I spent some time here when I was your age."

My age. "And when precisely was that? Because I'm getting some eerie cult vibes, indications of a fear of commitment."

He nudged me playfully, his armor imprinting my soul with an indelible mark. Standing tall, he directed my attention to the children at play near the church building. "If I tell you, will you promise to go inside afterward?"

I gulped, a swirl of emotions threatening to consume me. I wasn't ready, and it seemed that he wasn't either. "An exchange of numbers in place of goodbye? How utterly you," I teased.

His laughter danced once more, a melody that played on my heartstrings. He gestured toward a distant structure nestled among peculiar trees. "I stayed there," his finger guided my gaze, and my cheek nearly grazed his palm. "Fourteen years ago."

Fourteen years ago. The revelation struck a chord, reverberating through my very being. The Warrior was twice my age.

I turned back to him, lips slightly parted, but words eluded me. But I had nothing to say to this, I was speechless. And it appeared he was equally affected, for when I turned toward the dunes once more, he was gone.

That was the last time I ever saw the warrior.