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Penelope didn’t return the kiss, and when Azriel lifted his head, he watched her closely. She stepped back and leveled her gaze back to his chest.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” she apologized.

“Pen...”

“I thought I could handle it,” she told him. “Have a few nights with you and that’s over, but it isn’t. I believe by pushing you away, and rejecting you, it would be easier for me, but it’s hard for me as well, so hard.”

Azriel was struck silent.

“But now...you’re going for battle, and I am even more scared than before. I can’t have you doing this to me now,” Penelope said.

“Pen...,” Azriel pulled her to him. “Are you scared I am going to die?”

Penelope’s tears fell. “No one can guarantee life or death, my Lord.”

.....

Azriel hugged her, and his only form of consoling her was his hand rubbing her back. Her fear seeped into him, and its feeling was of the foreign kind, wrapped with what-ifs.

What if they didn’t win?

What if Aloysius has devised a better battle plan?

What if they couldn’t be prepared enough before he comes?

What if he never sees Penelope again?

His arms tightened around her, and she wept even more. He had no words to offer her, but one thing he was sure to do, was to fight like his last breath depended on it.

....

Neera inhaled the scents of the flowers, closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath, and her eyes watered as coughs seized her. The intensity of the scents watered her eyes, and after sitting all day in the garden and tending to them, it became nauseating at a point.

She rose, dusting off the sand on her dress, and admired the bloom of the flowers from the rain that had blessed them earlier that week. Their petals opened to the love of the afternoon sun, and bees were busy carrying about their business of making honey and pollinating.

Neera moved, her body returning to her again. Zavian was to be given all credit for that, and it had been the first step, even though things had remained the way they were. She barely saw anything of Zavian, and when he was back in the castle, he didn’t join her in their chambers.

She had been forgiven, yet the deep wound of the hurt still remained unhealed in him.

She called to a guard. “Is the King around?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the guard replied. “He has been in the meeting room with the General Commander and asked not to be disturbed, your Majesty.”

Not to be disturbed, she was his wife, and definitely not in the disturbance category. She thanked the guard and instructed the maids standing a few feet behind her to get her some cold lemonade prepared.

Armed with a tray of a jug of lemonade in hand, Neera walked to the meeting room. She didn’t knock, and when she busted in through the doors, both demons looked up. Zavian poring over a paper spread over his desk, Azriel’s arms folded as he looked in concentration.

“I come bearing refreshments!” She said in a cheery tone.

“Thanks,” Zavian said. “But we are good.”

Azriel’s face broke into a grin, but Zavian returned to the task he was on before. The General Commander noted the tense atmosphere, and he cleared his throat.

“Well, I am parched,” Azriel said. He smiled at Neera as he set down the tray on another table and poured himself a glass. “Try shouting orders all day, it’s hectic.”

“I trust the preparations are going well then?” Neera said, wringing her fingers nervously.

“Well, we’ve got Lydia to thank for the lack...”

“Azriel,” came Zavian’s tone, loud with a warning. Neera couldn’t describe how the secrecy pained her. She was Queen and had the right to know, but not a single sniff of their preparations or their plans was caught, and she knew why.

“Can you give us some minutes, Azriel?” Neera requested of the General Commander. “I would like to speak to the King.”

Azriel pinned Zavian was a hard stare. “Sure.”

He left, and it was just the two of them. Zavian penned something down on the paper, completely ignoring her presence.

“Are you still angry with me?” She asked.

“No.”

“You are, you have forgiven me, but you can’t forget what I did.”

“I am busy, Neera.”

“Yes, I know. You’ve been too busy for me, too busy to even look at me.” Neera choked on her words. She moved closer to his desk, but he didn’t look up.

“Tell me what I can do to fix what’s between us, Zavian.” She said. “Tell me if there is something I should say, tell me. I am trying here, and I have told you everything that happened. Please,” she covered his hand on the table with one of hers. “I miss you, Zavian.”

Zavian stilled but made no move.

“And I love you.”

Neera put her other hand on his face, but Zavian didn’t raise his eyes from the paper.

“I love you, Zavian.” She said again.

Cold silence was her response. And Neera could feel that cold freezing her body from her hands on him. She removed the hands and backed away.

“Neera, I am busy,” Zavian said. “And I really need all the time I can get to win this war.”

She nodded. “And I am getting in the way. I’ll get the General Commander on my way out.”

Zavian fisted his hand on the table. He wanted to call her back and apologize for the harshness of his response and the impassivity of his dismissal, but he couldn’t.

I love you rang in the air after she had left.

She had wanted to hear those words back from him, but even as she said them to him, they sounded far away, tucked in the sweetest of memory both of them had shared. And Zavian wanted to keep those words there, where things were savory and delicious and peaceful.