When she managed to settle herself and speak, Dorothea’s throat felt raw, and her voice leaked out pitifully.

“I have the strangest sense of déjà vu,” she mumbled.

“Me too.” Rhys, as he pressed his lips to the top of her head, didn’t sound like he minded.

“So I promised myself,” she murmured to bring the tale full circle, “that I wouldn’t burden anyone else with that resentment and hatred. If I don’t marry or have children, I won’t make anyone feel like I do. It’s better that way.” She’d already gone too far by befriending Shark. She regretted her selfishness in accepting their friendship, no matter how much it had saved her from the agony of loneliness after losing Seam and Ophelia.

“That’s not true, you don’t have to…” Rhys sighed as she shook her head and extricated herself from him.

Dorothea looked at the ground, hands clasped tightly. “Thank you for listening.”

“Of course. I’d do anything to help you.”

Her heart stopped and started again, and she was ashamed by how much she liked the soaring pain of it. “Thank you. I feel the same way.”

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then took a deep breath. “For me, it’s a little more than that. I have a hard time explaining it. It’s like… If you’re the earth, then I’m the rain, and if that’s the case, then maybe we’re meant to meet, and…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “That sounded so bad.”

She laughed softly. “No, no. It sounded wonderful.” Meant to meet. If there was such a thing as that kind of fate, she would call it good for bringing them into each other’s lives.

A brief awkward smile flashed across his face, though it also felt resigned somehow. “Stay still? I’m not going to do anything, I swear.” He dug in his jacket pocket, edging in close to her again. Dorothea’s breath caught as his hands came up to her neck, knuckles brushing the skin of her throat as he affixed something to her clothes.

There came to be a newfound weight, and it was obvious what it was. Dale’s memento, the faded gardenia, now on her. “Oh, Rhys…” She couldn’t accept this.

“I want you to take it. Please.” He rested his forehead against hers, hands on her shoulders and eyes closed. “You deserve to live life happily. The weight you’ve been carrying isn’t fair to you. I wish you could see that.”

It took everything she had not to start sobbing again. “You too, Rhys.” She wanted the world for him. Her fingers drifted to the gardenia. “If you change your mind, tell me and I’ll give it back. I’ll keep it safe in the meantime.”

He smiled slightly and stood straight. “Thank you.”

She shook her head and whispered, “Don’t thank me. Thank you. Thank you, Rhys.” For making her feel safe enough to be able to say all of this, for coming into her world, for being so kind and gentle and amazing. For opening so many possibilities and feelings. “Thank you.” That was all she could seem to say, but she felt restless, as if failing to say more would only lead to regret.

Regret. It seemed to rule over her life. Was it something she couldn’t avoid no matter what she chose? And if that was the case, then why was she still holding back? But she’d only hurt everyone, which was why she’d always restrained herself. This argument could go on in circles forever!

“Dorothea.” Rhys was studying her face. “Tell me what you need right now.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. You’ve done plenty, Rhys.” She couldn’t ask for any more; he’d been kinder than she deserved several times. “I’m sorry to dump all of this on you. I don’t want you to have to bear my drama on top of everything else.”

Rhys smiled. “We share our burdens. I’m more than happy to do so, anytime.”

“Me too.” She looked into his eyes. His gaze on her was so steady and unflinching. Didn’t she owe it to him and herself to be brave and honest? Even if her life was going to be short, it was better to live that remainder not regretting withholding the truth from the wonderful man in front of her. “Rhys, I…”

He looked unsure whether to be concerned or amused by the way nerves had made her voice shoot up in pitch by several octaves. “What is it?”

Oh Gods, she had no idea how to do this. Should she even do it? Her feelings, even if he did by some miracle reciprocate, would only give him impossibilities. Changing her vows didn’t mean that all of the limitations she’d adopted were immediately off the table. She still didn’t want children and wasn’t willing to take risks. This would limit how deep her and Rhys’ affection for one another could go. What limitations would she place on him, and would these be fair in regards to his needs? Then there was the overarching issue of her lifespan to boot.

No. It wasn’t fair.

Dorothea forced a smile. “It’s nothing.” Rhys started to speak, but she cut him off. “We should go back inside. Iree might get suspicious, or… I don’t know, but we should let her see us so she doesn’t think we’re up to something.”

Rhys sighed. “Right.”

She didn’t want to leave it like this, but she might say or do something she shouldn’t if they remained here. Every touch, every word, made her want more from him. “Rhys, again,” she began, wanting to end this time with sincerity, “thank you. You’re so precious to me, and I feel like we can get through anything together. Later, I want to talk about how you’re feeling, okay? I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, and I want to listen and not let my issues override yours. Is that alright?”

He didn’t speak or give any satisfactory nonverbal response. There was just his focused gaze trying to reach into her, spreading heat as it did so.

“Rhys? Are you okay?” She certainly wasn’t.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I love you,” he said simply.

Dorothea caught her breath. “What…?”

“I love you. Romantically.” He tugged on the ends of his hair and laughed awkwardly. “Not that I don’t think you understood that already.”

“Yeah, I, I got it…” Her heart was pounding. Could he hear it? Of course he couldn’t, but the irrational parts of her brain felt very large and in charge right now.

“Dorothea?” He reached out to take her hand loosely, his index finger wrapping around hers. “I don’t expect an answer. But if you want to give one, ‘no’ isn’t going to upset me. Nothing has to change.”

She wanted everything to change, but… “I can’t,” she said, forcing herself to have the decency to look at him. “I can’t be honest with you.”

“Why not?” He spoke gently, with no hint of accusation or demand.

“I… I’ll just...make things worse for you.”

“How could you possibly do that? You make me happier than I’ve been in months, years. You said it yourself. We can get through anything together.”

And that was why she loved him too. He made her feel strong, like she could push past her limitations, her doubts and fears. But her love wouldn’t be good for him at all. She was no good.

“I just, I don’t… Rhys, I can’t promise you the things I should be able to. So, while I, I appreciate your feelings, I…” Say it. She had to say she didn’t want him too.

“I know you promised yourself,” Rhys said gently. “You promised to hold back from a lot of things. And I know I’m asking a lot. But we can talk through things. We can compromise.”

“It’s not that easy!” Dorothea burst. He was trying to turn her entire world upside down, he already had, and she was scared. “You have to think about this realistically! No children, no sex! I’m weak, and I’ll die before you. Long before. I’m not worth the trouble. I’m not, so…”

He held up fingers as he spoke. “One, I am being realistic. Two, I’m fine with not having children. I’m aware of what that means as a Sacerian noble and I don’t care. Three, I respect that you want to stay celibate, but there are also a lot of things we can do that don’t run the risk of pregnancy if you’re interested. Four. I understand that our lifespans are different. To me, that’s all the more reason not to waste another minute. Five. You’re not trouble, none at all. Six. You’re worth it. You’re everything.”

Dorothea’s heart nearly burst. He was offering her things she’d dreamed of so many times but never dared to hope for. “I…” She was melting in the face of his sincerity. “You’re having to consider so much of the future because of me. You’re young. You’ve got a lot of life ahead of you. It’s not fair.”

“Let me decide what I think is fair for me, please.” His fingers twined with hers, and he waited, giving her space to think.

She wanted to leap into his arms and profess her feelings. But even now, the thought of the inevitable conclusion at the end of the path he was presenting made her hold back. For him to have to watch her die like she had watched her mother… Her love wasn’t worth that. He could always find someone else with the qualities he liked in her and so much more. That sobering reality gave her the strength she needed to do the last thing she wanted to: lie.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t feel the same way. I never meant to give you the wrong idea.”

Rhys nodded slowly, letting out a quiet breath. “Thanks for being honest with me, and for listening.”

She wanted to cry yet again, hug him tight, kiss him, tell him every thought she’d had about him, innocent or not. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I’m sorry, I…”

He smiled and ruffled her hair, tugging on her bangs. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, okay?”

It was better for him this way. He’d find someone much better. Rhys was amazing, beyond amazing, and he deserved much better.

“Let’s just get back inside,” she managed, trying to smile back at him.

With their time in solitude ended, they moved back towards the left doorway of the barracks. Dorothea braced herself for the furious din of the gathering as Rhys shouldered his way in first, but she needn’t have. Things had calmed. Couples and groups were coming together, feeling one another out in the thick atmosphere of lazy, slow intimacy.

She risked a peek at Iree and found her gaze on them. Her face was inscrutable.

“Rhys! Get your sweet ass over here!” a soldier slurred. “Lemme pour you a drink!”

Rhys turned to Dorothea. “Coming with me?”

“No, I’ll leave it to you.” Maybe it was better for them to give Iree what she wanted for a little while and separate. “Besides, there’s someone I want to talk to.”

“Alright.” He paused, then whispered, “See you at home.”

Gods, her heart couldn’t take this. “Y-Yes.” Rhys turned away, and she was glad to note that he was standing straighter and moving with more ease than he had earlier.

Next, she sought out a telltale flash of green and saw Cerid standing plastered against the wall closest to the opposite door. Dorothea crept along until she reached his side, then poked his shoulder.

“Good evening,” she greeted.

Cerid dipped his head. “Good evening to you as well. I hope you are enjoying yourself.” For his part, he looked exhausted in a suit that looked too formal even in a sea of dressier clothes on the soldiers.

“It’s nicer now that it’s calm.”

“Yes, I agree. Though I believe I shall retire soon.” He peered at her, tilting his head. “But you look as if you have something to ask me. Is that correct, or...” He squinted. “Are you, perhaps…troubled over something?”

“Er, yes. I mean, no, I’m not troubled.” How much was she going to lie tonight? “I have a request. If you don’t mind.”

He looked excited at the idea that he could be of some use. “By all means.”

“I’d like to visit you. Um, your house. The library in your house, that’s it. There’s something I’d like to research. Also... ” She lowered her voice. “I could bring Shark.”

Cerid’s cheeks flushed. “Oh? Well, yes, the both of you would be more than welcome. I shall be pleased to point you towards the relevant texts, whatever your area of interest might be.”

“Is tomorrow alright? I’m flexible for whenever you’re not busy, though. I know I’m the one inconveniencing you.”

“Of course, of course. After breakfast, shall we say? I look forward to it.”

She smiled, relieved at his amenability. “Thank you, Cerid.”

“My pleasure.” He blinked quickly, and his eyes focused past her shoulder; Dorothea turned to see Shark approaching them with a grin on their face. “Ah, Shark,” Cerid said, voice going up in pitch. “Good evening.”

“Hey, buddy.” Shark winked. “Mind if I steal Thea away?”

“That is up to the two of you.”

“What is it, Sharkie?” Behind the smile Shark’s eyes looked strained.

Without another word, they took her hand and pulled her back outside. “Come on, Thea. We’ve put it off long enough.”

She realized what they meant instantly. “We’re going to see your parents. You’re sure?”

“Yep. I’ve had enough wine to still walk straight but feel a lot braver. You, I assume, are sober as a rock.”

“Yes, I’m clear-headed.” At least in some respects.

“Alright.” Shark gripped her hand. “Then let’s go.” They were back on the streets, heading towards the confrontation that had doubtless been plaguing Shark since they set foot in Sirpo.

“Talk to me so I don’t freak out.” They paused. “What you said earlier when I checked up on you… What were you talking about? Gren Fall and Sirpo… What’s going on, Thea?”

She couldn’t quite recall everything she’d said, but she had a shadow of a gist. “Sharkie, I don’t want to bother you about it, not right now. Let’s wait until you’ve dealt with this first.”

“Thea, there’s always gonna be something. I’m gonna worry no matter what, so just tell me.” Their hand around hers held tighter. “Please.”

She didn’t want to say anything unfounded, but she couldn’t say no when they were like this. Beneath the ovular glows of street lamps that cast their shadows like spinning ghosts behind them, she told what truths she could. “After Gren Fall and Johanna Marley killed you, Cerid and Ariana, they waited for Rhys and I. They claim that they weren’t the ones who destroyed Sirpo.”

“You called bullshit on that, right?”

“Yes.” At least at first. “I suppose he got into my head for a second there. I didn’t mean to say anything to you about it.” Whatever the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to mention any suspicions to anyone, not even Shark, until things were clear.

Shark was nodding, digesting and accepting her words at face value. Did it even occur to them that she was trying to protect her friend from unneeded and uncertain conflict? “You mentioned Rhys too. You said to help him. Everything okay? Well, not that I haven’t noticed he’s a bit…off?”

“He’s exhausted. I worry about him.”

“That all?” Shark reached over to poke her cheek with their free hand. “Ha. You’re bright red. Catching feelings?”

“I, um…”

“Um, excuse me?” Shark laughed. “I was expecting an outright denial, but this is much more interesting. Tell me everything.”

At least with Shark, she could be truthful. They were someone to be grateful for, as always. “He…” her voice came out tiny. “Told me he loves me.”

“WHAT.”

“But I rejected him! And that’s the end of that.” Before Shark could press she asked, “What about you and Cerid, though?”

“Ha! Leagues ahead, Thea. Though we’d be a bit farther if you’d hadn’t interrupted.”

“What? I did? Well, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s all good. I’m gonna take it slow and easy with him. He’s more than worth taking the time, y’know?” They paused. “I know this will sound weird, but I almost feel like it’s destiny. Everything lined up like it was meant to so we could meet like this. So I could find this purpose. That weird?”

“Not at all.” She felt the exact same way about Shark.

“It’s going to be hard. Even so, I still want, I need to do something here.” They went on to explain the vague plan, the unformed revolution, that they and Cerid had previously discussed. “I didn’t think I had any love for this place left, Thea, but I just… Sacer is worth saving, and it’s worth working to change.” Unshakable conviction burned in their eyes, lighting them ablaze. “I won’t run away anymore.”

“Shark…” Dorothea knew where this was going. A fight that couldn’t afford to be lost was brewing ahead, and thus she would be needed. But what would this mean for the Ghurian people? She couldn’t help but wonder, even this late in the game. It was all because of Gren Fall inspiring her conscience and doubts.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but this is important. So, will you…” Shark trailed off as they realized how far they had come. “Let’s finish this conversation later…”

They stood before the cobbler shop.