“Anywhere you like,” he promised.
“Anywhere?”
“Anywhere in this world.”
Evylin laughed again, her lungs contracting against his chest with the activity. “What if I want to go somewhere out of this world?”
“Then I’ll find a way.”
She scrunched her nose in playful delight. “That’s awfully generous.”
As Deckard entwined his fingers in her hair, he let his smile fade, allowing her to grasp the sincerity in his tone. “I mean it, Evie,” he murmured. “Wherever you wish to go, we’ll go together.”
Her head tipped to the side, likely feeling the urgency of his emotion. “You mean...now?”
He nodded.
Evylin’s smile turned to a smirk. “We can’t leave, Jonn.”
“Why not?”
“There are several reasons. First, the Alliance is counting on us to help finalize Allund. Second, we have the Relics, and we can’t exactly take them with us. Nor can we leave them behind unattended. Third—”
“None of that matters,” Deckard said, interrupting her. He didn’t care about her reasons; he had his own. “I made a promise to you. I told you that I would take you anywhere you wanted to go. I intend to follow through.”
Evylin’s concern faded, and her dimples reappeared. “I’ve seen nearly the whole of Allund. Because of our marriage. Because of you.” She shrugged. “Consider your promise fulfilled.”
Disappointment shadowed his chest. Throughout their marriage thus far, Deckard knew of one thing that made Evylin happy. Now, she was taking it away, leaving him with nothing to offer her.
“And I know you, Jonn,” she continued, caressing his face. “Well enough to realize you won’t walk away when you’re needed. When you have the power to change the world.”
Deckard tried to breathe through his frustration. “I only care about changing your world,” he whispered tenderly.
“You already have,” she said, brushing her fingers along the bridge of his nose. “And you’re a Mage. You’re meant to live for more than just me.”
“And what if I don’t want to be a Mage?”
“I’d be rather sad if you weren’t.”
He met her gaze, a glowing amber in the morning light. “You would?”
Evylin nodded, her wavy hair dancing around her face with the motion.
“Why?”
“If you weren’t a Mage,” she whispered, “then I wouldn’t be your Warrior.”
Deckard cupped her face in his hands as a profound wave of devotion flowed from Evylin’s skin into his. “You will always be mine,” he vowed. “Just as I will always be yours. Whether as Warrior, Mage, or whatever else this world grants to us.”
The morning’s lateness and the impending meeting couldn’t stop Deckard from delighting in the moment with Evylin. He was determined to indulge in her kisses and love for as long as she allowed, even for all eternity if possible. They ignored their obligations in the pursuit of their passion, losing themselves in their love.
It made them dreadfully late for breakfast.
On any other day, Deckard would have been bothered by Thom’s annoyed yet amused smirk at their delayed arrival. Normally, he would have felt embarrassed when Calyn innocently inquired if it was typical for city folks to sleep in. Under different circumstances, he would have hurried to the meeting for which they were already late. However, Deckard let Evylin enjoy a complete breakfast while he leisurely sipped a second cup of black tea.
“Brea will be there already,” Thom grumbled, his knee bouncing under the table.
“You can leave without us if you’d like,” Deckard suggested.
