Thom didn’t bother replying.
Deckard shifted, obviously uncomfortable with his next words. He took another sip of wine, then asked, “And what about Brea?”
Thom frowned, meeting his brother’s gaze with confusion. “What about her?”
“What are your intentions toward her?”
Struggling to comprehend the catalyst of this question, Thom gaped at Deckard. “I’m rather confused,” he said. “Brea and I are friends.”
“Perhaps,” Deckard said disbelievingly. “But she has admitted feelings for you, hasn’t she?”
Thom smashed his lips together. He regretted telling Deckard about that. Though Brea hadn’t requested that Thom keep herpast with Adie secret, it felt almost like a betrayal to reveal it. And now, Deckard was using it against them.
“Yes, all right?” Thom shook his head. “She had feelings for me.Before.But she’s also made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want those feelings. She made her promise to the Alliance; she intends to Bond with whomever they wish, and what’s more, she told me she’s talking to a few of them. Through letters mostly, but Highlords Wilkinsone and Grames are both here in Ephria, so she’s seen them on occasion. She said Grames has a good sense of humor and darker hair than most Wauldeners, which is a plus for her. Granted, he’s apparently about six-foot-five, so they’d have quite the journey to share a kiss.”
Thom tried to chuckle at the joke, but the thought of Brea kissing anyone made his stomach pinch.
Deckard noticed. “You like her,” he said.
Thom shook his head again. “Not like that.”
“No?”
He squirmed under his brother’s inspection. “No,” he said, then illogically added, “Even if I did, she’s moved on.”
Deckard’s brow quirked. “You know that for a fact?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“How?”
Thom had no reply.
Deckard wore a knowing grin. “Let’s say you’re wrong. She does still have feelings for you, and she would abandon her promise to the Alliance to be with you.” He set his forearms on the table, clasping his hands. “Would you accept her offer?”
Thom stared at him, mouth clamped tightly shut. He fidgeted with his tankard, tapping an uneven rhythm on the rim. “I don’t like this game,” he muttered.
Deckard drew in a long, understanding breath. “Right,” he murmured, drawing a hand over his mouth.
“Stop,” Thom said flatly.
Deckard met his gaze, silent.
With a small, dejected shake of his head, Thom said, “Just...stop trying to figure this out, all right? I know nothing can come of it. That’s why I’m refusing to accept it. I don’t have feelings for her. I can’t.”
“But you do,” Deckard confessed for him.
Thom swallowed, the truth locked deep inside of him. Yes, he had feelings for Brea. If she abandoned her promise to the Alliance in order to be with him, he’d take her in an instant. No one had ever made him feel so seen, so cared for. Not even Deckard.
Breata Lohen was strange. She was blunt, rude, and downright terrifying. But she was also the gentlest soul he’d ever met.
“We can’t be together,” Thom said quietly. “She’s the last single female Warrior in the Alliance. The last in Allund, from what we know. They’d never approve of our marriage, and she wouldn’t break her promise to them. I wouldn’t ask her to.”
Running a hand through his hair, Thom scoffed at his ridiculous desires. “She deserves better than me anyway.”
Deckard appraised Thom slowly. It was clear he was trying to deduce the truth behind Thom’s words. In Thom’s entire life, he’d never had a serious relationship with a woman. He’d chased different girls. He’d even carried on a secret affair with a widow during his time as a sergeant in Worthing, a tiny village in the foothills of Felbourne province. It was a sin he wasn’t particularly proud of but had long repented of in the kirk.
But for all his life, Thom had looked for a woman’s affection. He thought it would make him whole, that it would fill the void of his insecurities.
