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Perfect.
We walked in silence for a while, checking the traps, resetting the ones that had been knocked over. As much as I attempted to keep my eyes from wandering to his body whenever he leaned down to check a trap, I found myself ripping my gaze away each time he gave me that knowing look of his.
Smug bastard. Still, we fell into a companionable silence. I didn’t have to tell him I was worried Herne wasn’t going to relent. He didn’t have to tell me he was planning to increase the pressure until Herne’s back was against a wall.
On our way back to camp, I looked up to find Demos studying my face. His expression was serious.
“What is it that you want, Sin?”
“What do you mean?”
“After all this. If we finally achieve peace and we get to go home. What then?”
I shrugged. It was difficult to imagine such a thing, knowing how much we still had to achieve to win this war. “I want to open my own store in the hybrid kingdom. I want to be a great seamstress who brings joy to people through my clothes. I want to help people find the clothes they’ll wear to weddings, balls, ceremonies—to all the best days of their lives.
“I want to know that when I use my power, it won’t be to shoot a bolt directly through an enemy’s throat. Instead, it will be to create something. Something that brings a little beauty into this world.” I blinked. I hadn’t expected all that to come out. It was as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.
“I’m going to make sure you get that life. It will happen. I promise you.” His voice was so assured. And if there was one thing I knew about Demos, it was that he kept his promises. He stopped walking and turned to face me fully. “But you’re not being honest with me. What is it you really want?”
I felt my eyes widen and glanced down in an effort to hide my reaction.
Demos wouldn’t approve of what I wanted. If he learned my true goal, he would do everything he could to keep me out of this war.
It wasn’t his fault. The day he’d met me—and for weeks after that—he’d seen me at my weakest. Now, when he looked at me, he would always see someone who needed to be protected.
One day, I did want to be a great seamstress. But first, I would make an impact. Pris wouldn’t have entered this war if I hadn’t been taken. I had been the catalyst. And I refused to live the rest of my life knowing I was merely one of the reasons this war had begun. The day Prisca had shown me the headstone she’d had made for my mother, I’d silently vowed that I’d also be one of the reasons this war ended. Maybe one day I’d share that with Demos. When I was sure he saw me as more than just a victim.
“That is what I want.”
Demos angled his head, and I folded my arms. “I shared with you. What do you want, Demos?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “For two years, all I wanted was either to die alone with some shred of dignity or to escape. Now, all I want is to win this war and bring our people home. I don’t—I haven’t let myself think about what comes after.”
I wanted to reach out and touch him. I wanted to hold his hand—so much that I physically hurt with the need to feel his skin. But that was stupid. Demos had only ever seen me as yet another person to keep alive. I was a promise he’d made to his sister.
And most days, I was fine with that.
Today…today, it ached.
Perhaps a change of subject. “Do you think we’ll be able to convince Herne to work with us?”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “I think if anyone convinces that man to do anything, it will be Tibris. He’s our best hope.”
“We need him to make a decision. Soon.” Regner wanted this border secured. And Eryndan wanted to save face.
“I know. I have a plan for that.”
We were silent for the rest of the walk back. A few hours later, not long after I’d washed away the sweat of the day, I wandered toward the main fire. My gaze caught on Demos. He was standing near the camp entrance between Tibris and Herne. Uh-oh.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Herne growled as I walked over to them. “We need him.”
Demos swiped his hand over his mouth in the way he did when he was hiding a smile. But his eyes remained serious. “You’ve made it clear that your people have no interest in our help. Your ability to heal your people is your own business. Tibris is needed on the front lines. Where he will be most useful.”
Herne’s face turned white with fury. “You’re not taking him to the front.”
Tibris was watching Demos and me closely. I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t happy with either of us, but anyone else would likely assume it was the situation that irritated him. Still, I was willing to bet he would play along. Besides, he couldn’t refute that he was needed on the front. With us.
Herne turned on him. “You wouldn’t leave our people. You know we need you.”
