At night the camp quieted, save the sound of crickets and snoring. Saran’s tent was modest for a princess, and comfortable enough for two slender people. Fur and embroidered pillows draped the floor, the only luxury she allowed herself past the military issued wool blankets and under stuffed pillows. Her traveling clothes sat folded neatly at the entrance, and she lay beneath the furs wearing a thin cotton dressing gown.

It wasn’t a frigid night, but the air had cooled enough to chill and she burrowed down against the soft fur until it covered her nose. She couldn’t sleep for the aching in her head, and nothing could drown out the snarling, growling, horrible snores of the soldier sleeping in the tent next to her.  

A shadow moved along the canvas and around the front of her tent. Her heart rate leapt up and she reached across the width of her shelter for the hilt of her sword. Then, Ahriman ducked in. He pressed a finger to his lips and slid along the fur to lay by her side, shifting her hand away from the weapon.

“Keleir, are you mad?” she hissed at him, feeling his warm nose brush up against her cheek. His arm curled over her waist and drew her tight against him. He was hot, like fire. Not surprising, given it was his Element.

“No one saw. It’s near morning and everyone is sleeping, even the dolt left to keep watch. I couldn’t sense you sleeping, so I thought I’d pass the time with you.” He moved, hovering over her with strands of white hair falling around his face.

Saran sighed, choosing not to waste energy with arguing. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

The Fire Mage pursed his lips together and shrugged. “And you?”

She touched the bridge of her nose. “My head is pounding to the point I wish to bash the rest of my brains to mush and end the pain. Were you having nightmares?”

Keleir curled his hand along her side. “I dreamed.”

“Of him?”

He looked away. “Of him.”

“What–”

“I’d rather not,” Keleir said. “Not tonight.”

Saran nodded and shut her eyes as the Fire Mage settled down next to her, tucking his face in the crook of her neck.

“Do you remember when you were a child and you’d first come to the palace? You had such terrible nightmares that your screams kept half the orphanage awake.”

“Aren’t you a little young to remember this?”

“I can remember it enough, not much. But, I remember that I’d snuck out one night to visit my friend Leila, and I went by the boy’s dormitory. I heard this great wailing, so I crept inside and found you rolling on a cot in a closet where the older boys stuffed you to muffle the noise. You looked miserable and frightened. I remembered how the maids would hug me after having a nightmare, so I crawled into bed and gave you this great big hug.”

“Please don’t finish this story.” Keleir rolled onto his back, staring up at the canvas ceiling with an immense frown.

“You woke up, wrapped your hands around my throat, and nearly choked me to death,” Saran laughed. “Your eyes were black as pitch.”

Keleir let out an exasperated groan.

Saran snickered. She rolled over him, laying across his chest. “I can do this and live.”

“If that is a fond memory of me, I’ve been doing something very wrong.” Keleir’s jaw tightened. He reached up and brushed fingers through her tangled ringlets. “I have come a long way since then. I am master of my body now, I have been for some time, and I thank you each day for it.”

Saran smiled, snuggling closer to him. She laid near him for an hour or more, listening to the rhythm of his heart. Eventually, with daylight creeping ever closer, she turned her thoughts to the next day.

“Tomorrow night, when everyone sleeps, we’ll leave for our meeting with Darshan,” she said, settling on her side next to him. “Depending on how I’m punished for sabotaging Odan’s attack, when we return to the capitol, I may not be able to meet with him. It must be tomorrow.” Her words were a faint whisper pressed to his ear. The brush of her lips sent a shiver through him and suddenly the last thing on his mind was planning escapes into the darkness to plot against the king.

“Aye,” he said. “Good a time as any, and you won’t be punished. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“My father would never punish me with physical violence, but he is very capable of psychological torture. That is why you have to stay away from me, Keleir. I do not want him knowing that I care for you. He will use that against me.”

The Fire Mage turned his red gaze on her, glancing sidelong as he took a deep breath. “I will keep my distance from you physically, but they know we’re friends. He will not know we are lovers, but you cannot deny our friendship. We’ve been friends for years, Saran. As far as that, I’ll keep my distance.”

“No running to my rescue.”

Keleir scoffed. “As if you need it.”

Saran gave a broad grin and nudged him with her nose. “Go, before someone wakes and finds you leaving… and do not Port! You’ll set my covers afire.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Keleir sighed. “But, I’ll take the slow way if you insist.”