“Not even as a Mage?”
“Evie—”
“I’m curious.” She tightened her grip on his fingers. “And you said you’d help me.”
“How does this help?”
“Because I have no ideas, Jonn,” she lamented. “All I can think of is more of the same: asking the Alliance if they’d like us to run errands like this for them forever. But I don’t know if that’s truly what I want or if it’s just my lack of imagination.”
Deckard sighed, his eyes dropping to his lap. An air of frustration and conflict surrounded him. “Do you want help with ideas?”
Evylin angled toward him. “Do you have some?”
He nodded hesitantly. “A few.”
“Then, by all means, tell me.”
Deckard ran his hand along his jaw, staring across at the fire now. “There are several paths we could take. And all these ideas could be altered to fit whatever you’d like best.”
He cleared his throat. “Initially, we could follow your suggestion and ask to serve as their...errand runners, I suppose. This role might be open to interpretation, leading us to tackle a variety of tasks, which could bring a decent level of excitement and adventure. On the flip side, it might also become quite routine and tedious. There’s a possibility we’d end up acting more like diplomatic representatives for the nobles rather than engaging in anything truly thrilling.”
Evylin had not thought of this possibility, and she now questioned how she had missed it. The likelihood seemed to favor the last option. Going from one noble to another to make sure they were fulfilling their duties and had all they required would be much more about politics than adventure.
“If you didn’t want to take that risk,” Deckard continued, “or simply wanted more than that position could offer... We could leave Allund.”
Evylin grinned dryly. “And go to that white beach in Audis?”
He responded to her humor with a serious stare. “If you’re interested,” he remarked. “Or we could set sail across the sea to Schon and embark on a brand-new adventure—something entirely unknown. We could earn a living using our skills and never experience a dull moment again.”
As Evylin furrowed her brow, she came to the conclusion that the idea wasn’t as thrilling as it initially appeared. After all the traveling and exciting adventures that they had experienced over the last six months, she found the notion of a boring routine quite appealing. Not forever, perhaps just a month or so. But ideally, she wanted a few weeks to enjoy the peacefulness of monotony.
Deckard guided her hand onto his thigh and placed his other hand over it. “If you’re concerned about being distant from everyone,” he said, searching her eyes with genuine concern, “don’t worry. I’m sure Thom would come along, and I believe we could persuade Brea to join us too. Vayden might even be open to the idea of a fresh start there. However, I doubt Ilain would want to leave, so we’ll have to exclude her and Ethenn from our plans.”
Evylin considered him, her lips parting slightly. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve considered many ideas.”
“But this one more than the others?”
“More than some but not more than all.”
Unsure whether she truly wanted to know the answer, Evylin fiddled with the blended moonstone in his ring. “And which idea have you considered the most?”
Deckard averted his gaze, tilting his head away from her. “It’s inconsequential.”
“Please tell me.” She traced her fingers along the back of his hand and down to his wrist.
Without lifting his gaze, he responded with an almost regretful tone. “We could return to how things used to be. I could be an officer again, and we could settle in Loclight. We could forget that we were ever anything more.”
Expressing those thoughts appeared to spark Deckard’s bravery, and his gaze returned to her face. “We could relinquish our magic and lead ordinary lives. We could start a family, and you could manage the home and our daily matters. Or you could join me in the army. I could seek assignments that keep me in the city—ones that wouldn’t separate me from you and our children for more than a week or two at a time if it’s absolutely necessary.
“All of this,” he freed one hand to gesture around the room, “would fade into mere memory. It was an adventure we shared, something unique to us that we could never forget. But we would finally be free of every obligation and the pressure to be anything other than ourselves—only bound to each other and our children.”
Evylin heard the longing in every word he uttered. Yet, she also sensed the underlying fear.
Deckard’s vision for their family—imagining them happily living in the city while he returned to being an officer—wasn’t just a simple fantasy. Though she had asked him about his dreams before, he had never offered the truth of his hopes. Now, she could feel the unease that his real wishes brought to the surface. He might find it hard to acknowledge, but deep down, she understood that this wasn’t his genuine desire. It was more of a compromise. This was the dream he convinced himself was enough to protect him from disappointment if he ever fell short of the aspirations that he truly cherished.
Hewitt’s voice echoed in her mind. Every word he had ever spoken to her about Deckard, every piece of advice he had given her regarding her husband, came flooding back.
