Ezeas knocked on the door, though he felt the person behind it deserved no such consideration.

“Enter.”

He went inside, closing the door behind him. Lyari was sitting in a chair, clearly having expected him. She was in her usual dark gray uniform, one leg crossed over the other. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak.

“I guess you're displeased with me?”

He remained quiet and did not move. After a few seconds, she sighed and stood.

“I'll admit, I got carried away. I originally didn't even want to see her again. That captain convinced me to join the fight.”

It took every part of Ezeas' control not to ball up his fists or tense his body; a lack of reaction was the only way to keep her from feeling victorious. He remained cold and his stance was relaxed, while she waited for him to say something; again, the silence quickly drove her to speak.

“I suppose you're not going to forgive me this time, but I don't regret it. She might be a lovely person, for a human. But she's dangerous and if you won't see that, then I have to act on my own.”

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with defiance and pride.

“Is that why you're here?” he asked.

“I had no idea you would be here. Kuno sent me with a message for the commander. I'm just waiting for the reports I'm supposed to bring back.”

“And I should believe that?”

His tone was flat, not betraying the anger beneath and Lyari scoffed, beginning to pace the room.

“I can't force you to believe the truth. I understand I lost your trust but it doesn't change my orders.”

Ezeas nodded.

“Good. Then I won't have to deal with your tricks for much longer.”

She shrugged her shoulders, her demeanor nonchalant, though he thought he detected a tense undertone.

“I'll accept your hate, Ezeas. We both know I don't care what happens to the human, and you're no longer objective about this. If the price for ensuring your and by extension Islasa's safety is your resentment, then I'll pay it.”

“Such sacrifice,” he noted.

“I don't expect you to be grateful. It is what it is. If you have nothing else to say, you should go.”

“I won't hesitate to carry out my duty. If you get in the way of that, don't expect your excuses to help you,” he told her, calmly.

There was a slight twitch in her face, the barest sign that she was unsettled; Ezeas turned and sauntered out of her room.

Anger and frustration swirled in his depths as he walked away from the officers' quarters. Though he had managed to keep his facade intact, the taste of powerlessness was sharp and bitter.

Laelith would be disappointed and demand action, though short of killing his former second-in-command, their options were limited. Even worse, Saelina would never blame him for not taking care of the issue. For all intents and purposes, she was resigned to a life of hardship.

She had come with him without struggle or protest, accepted being carted off to a foreign country by a foreign people and shoved into conflict time and again, all to get away from her old life. He had expected her to thrash and fight, running off in the dead of night; he had even patrolled around his parents' home, checking for signs she was about to climb out of her window. In time, he had been forced to accept the idea that whatever else she was, impulsive she was not.

Could any person really be so content with the limited freedom she was allowed in Islasa?

“It's not like I would ever get a say in my own destiny.”

If she had acted like a normal hostage, had complained about the unfairness of everything, it would have made it easier for him to dismiss her. He would have claimed he did what he had to do for his country and sometimes it included things people would normally avoid.

However, her obeisance forced him to face those same arguments from himself. With no one to voice her protests, he often found them occupying his mind, unbidden. She didn't deserve being used as a pawn. She had done nothing wrong. What was asked of her was beyond reasonable. They owed her better than this. The thoughts were numerous and persistent, yet he had detected none of them from her.

Wanting to purge the thoughts from his mind, Ezeas decided to head for the baths. The compound had large bathhouses available for its people, drawing heated water from the depths into huge basins, carved into the floor. His muscles loosened in the steaming water and he pushed his concerns to the back of his mind for a time.

A deep breath released some of the tension he had held on to. There had been frustrations aplenty since he had brought Saelina along and in hindsight, he had not fully prepared himself for the tumultuous experience.

Her bruised face floated to the surface of his consciousness and a knot formed in his stomach.

What are we?

The thought had plagued him for some time. It had taken a mere human three months to leave him in this state and he was not sure he liked the change. Nor could he commit to resenting it entirely. As much as he would deny feeling any particular kinship with the woman, it was clear they were no longer enemies. Allies, then? But could he have allies? If his teias told him to sacrifice her, he would do so, without hesitation.

Leading the people was lonely, his grandmother had told him many times. There was no pride to the claim of being the single person closest to the high councilor. For decades he had been content with keeping people at arm's length, ignoring the pang inside when he saw the sad look of longing in his mother's eyes. He had suppressed the instinct to pick up the curiosities he came across during his travels and yet seeing his father's study still full of his gifts pulled at something in his heart.

The human had brought everyone closer to him again and Niranne was disapproving of the change. Ezeas could not fault her, she had suffered the worst when he had let love get in the way, before. She had impressed upon him the importance of trusting his premonitions over his feelings and he had been forced to endure the scorn and mistrust of almost everyone he knew. He had accepted it because the blame was his; he had worked to restore his reputation as well as his grandmother's trust in him for years, after the incident.

There would not be a second time, that much he had vowed and so far he had kept that vow with little difficulty. But he was on dangerous ground.

What in Death's fuckery was he going to do? He knew he only had to ask and the high councilor would arrange for someone else to take over, and be happy to do so. But Laelith had been right; he was the only right choice. Someone else might let their prejudice decide their treatment, others might treat her too softly, meaning she would never progress with her powers.

He steeled his resolve; he would be the one to protect and teach Saelina until she stood on that battlefield and when the time came, he would be the one to betray her, and he only hoped the pain he would feel would somehow justify what he had to do.