Something in my chest loosens.
“Not yet,” she adds, a glimmer of dry honesty softening the words.
That does make me smile.
“You said you want me to trust you,” I remind her gently.
“Yes.”
“Trust is not built through grand gestures,” I say. “It is built through restraint. Through consistency. Through choosing not to exploit weakness when you recognize it.”
She holds my gaze, unflinching.
“Then let’s stop acting like we’re on opposite sides of every decision,” she says. “If Vira moves, we move together. If Velcryn pressures you, I stand with you. No more divided fronts.”
There is no tremor in her voice now.
“And if I falter?” she asks.
“Then I anchor you.”
“And if you do?”
I don’t look away. “Then you will have to decide whether I am worth anchoring.”
She studies me for a long time, expression unreadable but intent.
“You are,” she says finally.
The bond answers with a quiet pulse of warmth. For once I do not feel like we are circling each other with hidden blades. I feel like we are standing on the same side of the field, fully aware of the storm approaching and choosing to remain where we are.
Amelia shifts closer, not touching, but near enough that her warmth registers without effort.
“Did it ever occur to you,” she asks softly, “that the reason control stopped working for you wasn’t because you needed more of it, but because you were never meant to carry it alone?”
The question lingers, heavy and unsettling. I consider her properly then. The exhaustion she refuses to show her people. The stubbornness that keeps Nytheria standing. The quiet courage it took to say all of this without demanding reassurance in return.
“No,” I admit. “It did not.”
She nods, as if the answer matters less than the honesty. Outside, the wind shifts through the trees. Nytheria remains wounded. Vira continues to wait. Velcryn watches for weakness.
But here, in this room, something aligns.
“United,” she says.
“Yes.”
“Against Vira. Against collapse. Against anyone who tries to fracture us.”
“Yes.”
She exhales, the tension finally easing from her shoulders.
“Then let’s stop acting like we’re waiting for the other to betray us.”
I consider that carefully.
“I can try,” I say.
