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My dear uncle,
By the time you read this, I will be well across the border of Dominic. I know you said that attending my class reunion was “unacceptable,” “out of the question,” and “a wildly foolish idea,” and I really do understand your point of view! But Mercedes said she was going to be there, and she said she thought it was a good idea for me to attend, as well. I hope you understand.
I have taken the liberty of securing myself an escort for the journey to Garreg Mach, as you said you were unable to provide soldiers yourself. I do not think it would be prudent to reveal his family name, but I assure you that by every merit you would consider important, he is a suitable and respectable chaperone. My experiences with him have at times been contentious, and he himself would bristle at any extolling of honor or chivalry, but I will admit he has great skill in arriving places without my notice. That is why I’m certain he’ll easily be able to slip past the castle guards at Dominic tonight. It’s easier than trying to explain things to them, but it does mean I’ll have to leave without a proper goodbye, and I am sorry for that.
I think I hear him at my window now! Give my love to Mother and the kitchen cats. I will write to you from Garreg Mach once I have safely arrived.
I would recommend burning this letter once you have read it.
Hugs and kisses,
Annette
***
“I can’t believe you didn’t pack any sugar for the tea.”
Felix Fraldarius looked up from the fire, which he had been poking impatiently with a stick as he waited for the porridge to cook.
“I apologize for the oversight,” he said. “I wanted it to be drinkable.”
“Villain,” Annette grumbled, taking a sip of over-brewed, bitter tea.
Felix might have smiled in response – or rather, smirked, as was his smug and villainous way – but Annette didn’t catch it before he turned back to the porridge, evidently deeming it ready to eat.
“This isn’t a tea party. You’re going to need to stay awake if we want to get to Garreg Mach by tomorrow night.” Felix handed Annette her bowl of porridge and ignored her rolling her eyes. “I doubt you got much sleep before we left.”
It was true. Annette hadn’t slept a wink while she was waiting for Felix to arrive, though he arrived at her window well past midnight. She had been too busy turning over all the things that could have gone wrong. And even though they rode through the night, not stopping for a moment once he helped her onto his horse just outside the gates of the Dominic castle, Annette didn’t feel sleepy now. Adrenaline coursed through her veins just thinking about it – how she climbed out her bedroom window and half-fell the last three feet into Felix’s arms; how they crept through the shadows so the moonlight wouldn’t give them away to her uncle’s guards; how Felix held her a little too tightly as they rode through the night, his breath against her neck and her back pressed firmly against him and the muscles he had developed over the past five –
“Eat your breakfast,” Felix interrupted, and Annette nearly dropped the porridge bowl as she snapped back into reality. Felix rolled his eyes and took another bite of unflavored porridge, and Annette reminded herself that he was still the worst, no matter how broad his shoulders were these days.
They ate in silence for a time, the only sound the crackling fire and the birds in the trees around them. Annette had a million questions to ask him, a million things to know about the war and their classmates and the last five years and the next five days. But she didn’t know where to start. And in truth, there was almost something pleasant about sitting there, quietly eating breakfast with an old friend. She never really felt like he needed her to fill the space with words.
“Do you think my uncle will be able to follow us?” she asked after a while.
Felix shrugged, not looking up from the fire. “Dunno. We took an unusual route, and we made good time last night. Still, we’d better keep a low profile.” He clinked his spoon against the bowl impatiently, a habit Annette remembered from school. “We should probably think of a cover story, if anyone asks why we’re traveling together. Something boring.”
“Let’s see . . . I’ll tell them I’m a traveling scholar,” Annette said. “I’m visiting my cousin in Galatea. She has some rare tomes I’d like to read, but they’re too fragile to send across the continent.”
“Stop there. Too much detail is suspicious,” Felix said. He put down his porridge bowl and picked up his sword, which he’d propped against a nearby rock. “I’m a wandering mercenary. I stab people. There we go.”
Maybe he hadn’t changed hadn’t changed that much in the last five years, after all. Annette took another bite of porridge. “If you’re such a lone-wolf hot shot mercenary, why are we traveling together, then?” she asked.
“Huh?” Felix looked genuinely confused. “I don’t know. Maybe I owe your cousin a debt or something. It’s not safe to travel with rare books, you know. A bodyguard could come in handy.”
“I don’t have the rare books, Felix, they’re in Galatea,” Annette said, wrinkling her nose at him. “Were you even listening to –”
“Hold on,” Felix said, and there was a sharpness in his voice that made Annette fall silent, fear pooling in her stomach. Felix turned away from her, scanning the horizon, and Annette heard it now, too:
Somewhere not distant enough, people were fighting. Annette heard the clang of metal and a scream, and she shivered.
“Stay here,” Felix said, his voice taking the edge of a commander to his troops. “Keep out of sight. I’ll be back.”
His sword was drawn and he had bolted out of earshot before Annette could protest that she could fight just as well as he could, thank you very much.
Furthermore, she didn’t know where he got off telling her what to do. Between the two of them, she was one of the most skilled battalion commanders in their house, and he was Felix.
Annette grumbled things along these lines as she threw her bowl to the ground, jumped to her feet, and ran to their horse as fast as possible. Thankfully, the horse didn’t seem particularly loyal to Felix, and he let Annette mount him despite the insults she was hurling at his master.
She held on for dear life as the horse broke into a gallop, bounding across the road after Felix, who had already disappeared from view.
They rounded a hill, and Felix finally came into view, along with the aftermath of a battle that had already concluded. Two bodies lay lifelessly on the ground, their rusty weapons falling beside them. Felix had evidently made quick work of the highwaymen; he looked vaguely annoyed that they hadn’t given him more of a challenge. He was cleaning his sword with an annoyed frown; there wasn’t even a hair out of place on his head. Two merchants stood a few feet away from him, staring at him, open-mouthed.
“You shouldn’t be traveling in such a small group,” Felix was saying, scowling at the merchants. “These days, the roads aren’t safe for travelers like –”
“Feeeeeeeelix! Look out!”
Annette screamed it just in time, and Felix turned to see his horse galloping directly at him. The horse began to slow just as Felix deftly stepped back and grabbed at the reins. Annette lurched at the sudden change and tumbled forward, then to the side, falling off the horse with windmilling arms and a shriek.
It was almost infuriating how easily Felix caught her, his sword clanging as it hit the ground.
“I thought I told you to stay hidden,” Felix said, turning his scowl over to Annette.
Annette scowled back, both of her hands gripped around Felix’s shoulders. “I told you lots of things, but you didn’t stay to listen,” she said. “So I guess we’re even.”
Felix scoffed, but didn’t have much of a reply, so Annette considered it an argument won. She still clung very tightly to Felix as he gently lowered her to the ground and waited a moment for her to get her feet back under her. It wouldn’t do her dignity any good to win an argument and immediately topple over.
“Milord? Do you two know each other?” a voice asked from behind them. Annette squeaked and toppled back into Felix, startled.
Felix caught her by the elbow, and they both turned towards the merchants, still standing a few steps away from them. Their wagon had been pulled off the road, their horse glancing over at the group in confusion at the recent chaos. Annette looked the merchants up and down, closely. She suspected they were father and son – they had similar features, but one was much younger, possibly only a year or two older than she was. The older man, his father, looked at them with weary appraisal.
“Annette is my, um – travel companion,” Felix said. “She’s hired me as a mercenary. We’re on the way to Galatea for . . . books.”
Annette glared at him. The merchants blinked, unconvinced.
“It’s none of your business,” Felix added.
“I thank you for your help, friends,” the older merchant said with a slight bow. “My name is Jorge, and this is my son, Hans. We are peaceful merchants – we would not have stood a chance against those bandits if you had not come along.”
Felix shrugged and mumbled something incoherent, but Annette caught how his ears turned slightly red. She smiled at the merchants.
“We’re glad we could be of assistance,” she said. “I wish you safe travels on the remainder of your journey.”
“Yes . . .” the merchant trailed off thoughtfully, then turned to Felix. “Did you say you were headed east? We could head that way together. Safety in numbers, right?”
“Perhaps,” said Felix, his eyes darting towards Annette doubtfully. “Where are you traveling to?”
“To Fort Merceus!” Jorge said proudly, gesturing backwards towards the wagon. “We have supplies for the Imperial army from the western Dukedom. An honor, to be sure. Though we should have predicted rebel scum would assail us on our journey.”
Annette and Felix both froze, looking at each other in a panic. Annette knew what Felix was thinking – the last thing they needed was the Empire’s attention before they reached Garreg Mach.
“I don’t think we’re really headed that way,” Annette said quickly. “Galatea is so far north. And we’ll travel much faster on our own.”
“We’ll be on our way,” Felix said, his grip on Annette’s elbow tightening. “Let’s go, Ann –”
“Good goddess, is this a Zoltan?”
Annette and Felix looked whirled towards the voice. Hans, the merchant’s son, had knelt beside Felix’s sword and was now examining it. His hand hovered above the hilt, and he looked up at Felix in awe.
“I thought it might be one of his apprentices, but looking at it – it’s unmistakable. You must have paid –” His eyes narrowed suddenly, and he looked over to his father. “What kind of mercenary can afford a Zoltan?”
“A good one,” Felix said tersely. “Step away from the sword; it would be a shame if it cut you.”
Annette grabbed Felix’s arm, a warning look in her eye. Their goal had been to avoid attention, and they were doing anything but.
Hans stood up and stepped away from the sword – but towards Felix and Annette.
“Rare to see a Zoltan this far south – and even rarer to see it not in a noble’s hand,” he said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “You care for it very well, for a sellsword. What are you hiding?”
“Hans . . .” Jorge said nervously. Hans turned to his father and gestured towards Felix and Annette.
“I talked to a merc at the inn this morning. The Baron of Dominic has a bounty out for a northern noble. Ran off with his niece, just last night.” He turned back to Annette and Felix, his eyes narrowing again. “Evidently he’s part of the fallen Kingdom’s rebel army . . . and a dangerous swordsman.”
“I’ll show you dangerous,” Felix growled, taking a step forward.
“Felix!” Annette said sharply, pulling him back against her.
“So you admit it!” Hans said triumphantly.
He reached towards his belt, grabbing hold of a dagger. Annette gripped Felix’s arm tightly. She had no doubt he could win in this battle, even with his sword on the ground, but what good was a victory if it meant harming innocent civilians? Not to mention the attention they’d attract.
“Just let us go!” she said, stepping in front of Felix and throwing her arms out. “We don’t mean anyone harm.”
“Why are you protecting him?” Hans said, his eyes flashing as he looked down on her. “My lady, he’s no friend of the dukedom and he’s no friend of yours. If he’s taken you against your will, we can escort you home.”
“You don’t understand!” Annette said sharply. “My uncle – he’s wrong! And I went with Felix willingly.”
“Annette, don’t –” Felix said, grabbing her around the waist and pulling them both a step back.
“You went with him willingly?” Hans’ eyes widened as he asked the question. “You support those traitors from Gautier?”
“I – no – I mean –” Annette fumbled for an answer. They were in imperial territory and her cover story was falling apart at her feet. “I don’t –”
“Why would you go with him?” Hans demanded. “Why would you side against the Empire? Against your family?”
“We’re in love!” Annette blurted out. “We eloped!”
Felix’s hands tightened around her, more of a flinch than anything else, and Annette let out a squeak of surprise. The rest of the group was silent, staring at each other in tense confusion.
“Please don’t tell my uncle,” she said, and the nervous quiver in her voice was not acting.
“Well,” Jorge said, taking a step forward and putting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I think that changes things quite a bit, doesn’t it?” He gave them all a wide smile. “We’ll be happy to escort you to the eastern border. Who are we to stand in the way of young love?”
It was probably good that Felix was holding Annette so tightly, because her knees suddenly felt very weak.
But it was too late to back out now.
***
The travel for the rest of the day was steady, but uneventful. Because of the merchant wagon, they could not travel as quickly as they had by horseback, but evidently any bandits decided that their group was too big to be bothered with. Either that, or they could see Felix walking with his hand on the hilt of his sword, even from a distance, and they decided it was best to stay away.
Annette rode beside Felix, leading the horse along the well-worn path towards eastern Fódlan. She wasn’t the strongest rider, but at this pace she could manage perfectly fine. Felix ignored her repeated reminders that the horse could take two riders, insisting that he preferred the walk. From the way he suspiciously eyed Jorge and Hans and the way his hand never quite left his sword, Annette suspected he preferred the mobility.
Still, traveling with the merchants had its perks, even if the pace was slower. They stopped for a lunch that was practically a feast compared to breakfast – including, Annette noted wryly to Felix, plenty of sugar for tea. And Annette found that Hans was surprisingly pleasant company when he wasn’t accusing them of treason. He drove the wagon, matching pace with her horse, and he smiled readily at her stories and cheerfully told her about his life as a merchant.
“We don’t meet as many people on the road these days. Times have been leaner,” he said, casting a suspicious look at Felix, who was walking several paces ahead and pretending not to listen. Hans turned back to Annette, “But the folks we do meet – they can be awfully nice to spend time with. I like meeting people from all over, you know?”
The sun was low in the sky when they stopped for the night, and it had dipped below the horizon by the time they finished dinner. But Jorge built up a fire that was large and cheerful, and it cast a broad circle of light across the camp.
After dinner, Jorge produced a small guitar from the back of the supply wagon, and played songs that Annette remembered from her childhood, with verses that he had possibly made up himself. Hans joined in on the choruses, and though he played at reluctance, he had a surprisingly lovely voice.
Annette didn’t realize she was singing along softly until she caught Felix staring at her. After that, she listened in silence.
Felix stood soon after the final song ended. Jorge looked up and gave him a broad smile, which Felix did not return.
“Early start tomorrow,” he said simply. “I can take second watch.”
“Oh, don’t you mind that. Hans and I have a system down,” Jorge said. His smile wavered for a moment, and he looked over Felix’s shoulder. “But lad – you haven’t set up your tent! You wouldn’t make your young missus set it up around you, now would you?”
“Um,” Felix said. “Ah.”
In truth, they didn’t have a tent, nor had they needed one. They’d traveled through the night the first night, and that night, they had planned to sleep with just blankets, by the fire and under the stars. It was easier to travel light – one horse could hardly carry two separate tents.
Of course, the merchant wasn’t thinking about two separate tents.
“My my, you two lovebirds really did run off in a hurry,” he said, clicking his tongue as he walked back to the supply wagon, guitar in hand. “No sense these days. No matter. The spare is a bit small, but it won’t matter to newlyweds, eh?”
He laughed heartily at this as he tossed the canvas to Felix. Felix caught it, turning a strange shade of red, as if he’d forgotten to keep breathing.
“You’re very kind, sir,” Annette said, to distract from the choking sounds that Felix was making.
And that was how they ended up with one blanket and one tent, as far away from each other as possible and yet still practically touching shoulders in the darkness.
Well, the semi-darkness, at least. The tent was thin enough that the light from the fire cast still provided faint illumination, however faint and flickering. If Annette turned, she knew she would be able to see Felix lying straight and rigid beside her, his hands clenched in fists as he perched on the thin bedroll they shared.
She turned. He was staring back at her.
“Do you want some blanket?” Annette asked. She held up the end of the blanket that Jorge had blithely tossed to her before she could raid their saddlebags. It was large enough for both of them.
Felix shook his head. “It’s not cold.”
Annette scowled. “That’s a lie and you know it, Felix Fraldarius.”
Felix hissed at her so quickly that it took her a moment to realize he was shushing her, and then another for her to remember to be offended.
“Thin walls, Annette,” he said softly, leaning in so she could hear him. “They think I’m a nameless noble or a gold-digging mercenary. Let them.”
Annette scowled. “Well they also think –” she picked up the end of the blanket –“ that we’re in love –“ she tossed half the blanket over Felix – “and if we were in love we would share a blanket, wouldn’t we?”
The blanket hit Felix with a dull thud. She swore he inched away from her, no matter how small the tent was.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe I’d respect your privacy and want to give you space.”
He tossed the blanket back to her.
“Ugh, you’re impossible!” Annette said. She’d forgotten how he could do this – pick stupid, pedantic little arguments about technicalities and things that didn’t matter. She glared at him in the darkness. “If you really think sharing a tent with me is so horrible, then –”
“I didn’t say that,” Felix said, but Annette had no time for corrections or interruptions.
“I never said I liked being here, either, you know,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “But if you’re going to be unpleasant about it, we can just – just –”
She floundered for a way to finish her sentence, but couldn’t think of one. Felix, unfortunately, was actually listening.
“Just what, Annette?”
“Forget it, Felix,” Annette mumbled, turning over on her side and facing the opposite wall of the tent. “Just go to sleep.”
But there was, of course, no chance of falling asleep now. Annette stared at the edge of the tent, her eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, watching the firelight play across the thin canvas. She kicked the blanket partway off of her, feeling too hot all of the sudden. The moment it left her, she was freezing again, but she was too proud to let Felix know how much she was fidgeting.
She took a deep breath and turned back towards him.
“And another thing, Felix, I don’t think it’s fair that –“
“Listen, Annette, I don’t want you to think –”
They both froze, cutting off mid-sentence. They’d turned towards each other at the same time, neither content to let the argument lie. Now, Felix hovered over Annette, propped up on one elbow, his hand midair above her cheek. And Annette lay flat on her back underneath him, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to remember exactly what she had been saying.
“Annette,” Felix murmured, so softly she could barely hear him, and he barely seemed to breathe as he himself above her, braced and rigid. “Annette, I –”
He cut off with a strangled sound, caught in the back of his throat, and he started to pull away, curling back in on himself. Annette had never considered herself particularly agile, and looking back, she imagined it was some combination of desperation and luck that caused her to reach out and grab his arm so quickly, pulling him back before he could move away.
Felix didn’t resist, toppling back towards her until his hand hit the ground, his palm planting directly over her shoulder. His knee nudged against hers as he stared down at her. His arms boxed her in, but he looked just as trapped for a moment.
“You what, Felix?” Annette breathed, somehow afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. “Tell me.”
Looking up at Felix made her feel dizzy, made the world spin around her. His eyes darted down her face and then back to meet hers, making some careful assessment Annette couldn’t quite decipher.
“Tell me,” she repeated.
Felix shook his head, closing his eyes.
“There are some lines we can’t cross, Annette,” he mumbled, almost to himself even as he said her name. “Words that we can’t unsay. Stories we never should have told.”
“It’s just for tonight,” Annette said. She pulled her elbows beneath her to prop herself up, to lean upwards towards him, however slightly. “It’s just until we make it to Garreg Mach. We’ll redraw the lines. We’ll forget the words.”
Annette could feel the muscles in Felix’s forearms tense, and flex, and tremble. Her fingers curled into fists beneath her as she grabbed at something that wasn’t there, trying to steady herself. Felix was impossibly close, and even in the semi-darkness she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the scar above his eyebrow, his tongue running against his top lip for a fraction of a second.
Annette took a breath and closed her eyes. The world froze around them; the space between one breath and the next stretched out for an impossible moment.
Her arms and neck and shoulders grew cold, and it was only then that she realized Felix had pulled away from her. He sank down on the bedroll beside her, and though his arm remained inches away from her, he suddenly felt impossibly far away.
“You’ll forget the words, Annette. I hope you do,” he said, staring up above them. “I never would. I never will.”
“Felix,” Annette whispered, his name on her tongue like honey, like poison.
Felix turned towards her, but he simply reached down and grabbed the blanket, pulling it back up to her shoulders. His gentleness as he tucked the edge around her arm hurt more than his sharpest barbs could have.
“You’re right, Annie,” he said softly. “We just have to make it to Garreg Mach. Go to sleep.”
The blanket was thick and woolen and well-made, but Annette was horribly cold when she finally drifted off to sleep.
***
Felix was gone when she woke up the next morning. Annette hated that she wasn’t surprised and she hated how disappointment pooled in her stomach, all the same.
She found him tending to their horse when she emerged from the tent. He looked up when he heard her, but said nothing, waiting for her to approach him.
Annette scowled and walked over to the fire, where Hans was finishing cooking breakfast.
“Less of a ride today, milady,” he said. “Although I suppose we’ll part ways when we turn south at the mountains.”
“I suppose we will,” Annette said. She tugged at the ends of her gloves, pushing them more snugly between her fingers. It was still quite cold this morning.
“A shame,” Hans said. He smiled at her. “You have a nice voice, milady.”
Annette smiled for the first time that day, and looked away. She caught eyes with Felix for a brief moment, but he turned back to the horse quickly.
She could barely taste her breakfast after that.
They traveled in relative silence for the morning, moving a little more quickly. Felix still insisted on walking, and he ventured ahead of the group to scout for bandits. Hans and Jorge were in good spirits, expecting to reach Merceus by the end of the day.
“We might head down to Enbarr after this,” Jorge told Annette cheerfully. “I haven’t seen the city in years. I hear the opera house is flourishing.”
Annette nodded and tried to smile, suppressing a shiver from the cold.
Felix finally returned to the group at lunchtime, just as Jorge was producing an array of dried meats from the back of the supply wagon. They stopped by a dense forest, resting beside a rather pathetic stream that disappeared into the trees. The sound of running water was rather lovely; Annette imagined the river gained strength deeper in the forest. It would have been a nice place for a walk, in more pleasant circumstances.
A morning’s ride in the cold air was enough to temper Annette’s annoyance with Felix, somewhat, and she was rather relieved to see him as he walked down the path towards them. She took some bread and jerky from Jorge, and met Felix just as he arrived at the edge of their little camp, standing beside their horse.
“I would’ve preferred something sweet,” she said, holding out the jerky like a kind of peace offering. “But I suppose you’ll like this.”
Felix glanced down at the jerky for a moment, then looked up at her. For a moment, his mouth opened wordlessly, like he was searching for the right word but hadn’t found it yet.
Something caught his attention over her shoulder, and he shook his head, looking away.
“I’m not really hungry,” he mumbled, grabbing the reins of the horse. “I’m going to make sure the horse gets some water; he’s had a long few days.”
He turned without taking the food, leading the horse downstream and disappeared into the woods, as well. Annette put her hands on her hips and watched them walk away.
“The horse has a name, you know!” she shouted. “It’s Sprinkles!”
Felix either didn’t hear that the horse was named Sprinkles, or didn’t consider it relevant enough to change his course of action. Annette let out something akin to a growl under her breath and turned away from stupid Felix and his stupid horse and his stupid forest. It was only then that she realized Hans was standing right behind her.
“Everything alright?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “A bit early for a lovers’ spat, isn’t it?”
Annette realized, in that moment, that she had been absolutely wrong. Absolutely nothing had tempered her annoyance with Felix. If anything, she was twice as annoyed with him now as she had been that morning.
“Hold these,” she instructed, shoving what was supposed to be lunch into Hans’ confused hands. “I’ll be back.”
She turned on her heel and marched after Felix into the woods. She found him a few minutes into the woods, standing by Sprinkles as the horse drank from the stream, which was more of a river by this point.
“Felix!” she shouted as soon as he came into sight.
Sprinkles was unbothered by the shouting and happily kept drinking. Felix, however, flinched before slowly turning around. By that point, Annette was close enough to him that she had to crane her neck to glare at him properly.
“You’re missing lunch,” Felix said, his voice maddeningly level. “Go eat something; it’s a long trip today.”
“Stop telling me to eat things!” Annette snapped. She shook her head. She needed to focus on what she was mad about. She prodded Felix in the chest with her finger. “What are you even doing right now, Felix! We’re supposed to be married!”
“Yeah, well. I’m not the marrying kind,” Felix said, taking a step back to avoid the prodding. Annette followed after him.
“Okay, well, can you be the pretending kind for fifteen seconds?” she said. He opened his mouth, perhaps to tell her that no, he couldn’t, but she kept going. “I’m not saying I enjoy this any more than you do, Felix. But is it that hard to act like I’m actually likeable?”
Felix recoiled at this even though she hadn’t touched him. “Of course you’re likeable, Annette!” he said, angrily, as if he wasn’t complimenting her. “You can’t actually think the problem is –”
“I’ll tell you what I think!” Annette interrupted. “I think you’re being a jerk. And even though you’re a jerk, I can pretend to be in love with you if it gets us to Garreg Mach. Why can’t you?”
“Because I – because you –” Felix flailed, trying to find words. He finally stopped talking altogether, scrubbing his hand over his face and sighing deeply. When he spoke again, his voice was very soft, drawing Annette in despite everything. “Do you know,” he whispered. “Do you understand what it’s like to be so close to something, and not be able to have it? I think you do, Annette. I’m not such an idiot that I don’t know how things have been taken away from you.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Annette said. She hugged her arms to herself tightly, looking away.
“Isn’t it better to just – not go near those things at all? To focus on the things you can have, not the things you can’t?”
Annette scowled. “No,” she said. “I don’t think that at all. The entire reason we’re going to Garreg Mach is to try to help, even if we fail,” she said. “I’d rather try and fail than not try at all.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I did you a disservice helping you get out of Dominic, then.”
“Felix, I –” Annette said, but Felix was already walking away.
Sprinkles snorted, looking over his shoulder at Felix’s retreating back before returning to his drink.
“Mind your own business, Sprinkles,” Annette said.
She wandered to the edge of the river, staring down at her own reflection. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were askew. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days, probably because she hadn’t. Annette scowled at her reflection, and her reflection scowled back.
“Villain,” Annette mumbled to herself, and she hated the way her face contorted in the water, like she was about to cry. She wasn’t about to cry.
“Please don’t cry, milady.”
Annette didn’t look back at the voice. She could see his reflection well enough in the water.
“Hans,” she said glumly. “I suppose – I hope you didn’t hear all of that.” She tried now to remember what she had even said; if she’d given anything away. She probably had.
“More saw than heard, milady. He pushed by me on the path coming down here, you see.”
Annette nodded. That was good, at least.
Hans took a step closer, standing beside her by the water. Annette glanced over and realized he was offering her a handkerchief. She shook her head, waving it away.
“It’s nothing, Hans. I’m fine,” she said.
“I feel like that’s not true. All due respect.” Hans frowned as he looked at her. “I don’t like to see a lady cry. Not if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Annette felt his fingers slide around hers as he took her hand in his. She froze, then took a step back, pulling her hand back as his grip tightened around her.
“There’s nothing you can do to help,” she said. “Let go.”
“Annette,” Hans said, matching her steps as she moved away from him. “I know we’ve only known each other for a day, but if there’s any way I can listen – anything you want to tell me –”
“I said let go,” Annette said, yanking her hand back sharply.
He let her go more easily than she expected, and she stumbled back a few steps before regaining her footing. It was only once she found her balance that she looked down and saw her hand was bare. Hans was holding her glove, staring at her with narrowed eyes.
“That’s enough of that, Hans,” Annette said. She stepped forward and held out her hand. “If I could have my glove back, please, we can return –”
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her arm up, yanking her hand above her head. Annette yelped. It was only when he ran his finger down her hand that she realized what he was looking at –
Her ring finger was remarkably, painfully bare.
“Recently eloped, was it?” he asked softly, an edge to his voice that Annette hadn’t heard before. “He could afford that sword but he couldn’t even get you a ring?”
Annette stomped her foot down on his and he winced, dropping her wrist. She darted back from him, clutching her wrist in her opposite hand.
“It’s none of your business if he got me a ring,” she said. “Give me my glove back.”
“I think it is my business,” Hans said. “If I’m traveling with a dukedom noble and an outlaw from the fallen Kingdom – and if they’ve both lied to me about who they are – I think that’s very much my business.”
He took another step towards her, more confident this time, and Annette felt her whole body spark with an adrenaline she hadn’t felt in years. She stepped backwards, her foot threatening to give out from underneath her on the muddy ground of the riverbank. She could already feel magic thrumming in her veins, more instinct than sigil. With her gloved hand, she began drawing that sigil, shaping the magic at the center of her palm.
Hans took a step closer, and she brought her hand up.
“Come with me to Enbarr,” Hans said
Annette dropped her hand, confused.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t know why you’re protecting him, milady, but you don’t have to,” Hans said, and there was something of the boyish earnestness in his expression that Annette had grown so fond of over the last day. “You’re from the Dukedom – you’re practically Imperial nobility. What does he have to offer you but death and tears?” He took another step forward. “Come with me to the Empire, Annette; you don’t have to go with him.”
“No,” Annette said, shaking her head. Saying the word made her want to say it louder. “No. I’m leaving. We’re both leaving, and you can’t stop us. I go where Felix goes. That’s the only thing you have to know.”
“You can stop this ridiculous charade,” Hans said, his mouth twitching into a frown. “I never really believed it. The way he looks at you - it’s like he knows he can’t have you. I know you aren’t married.”
“You’re right about that,” Annette said. “We’re not married. But everything else?” She brought her hands up, her bare fingers curled into a fist. “Everything else is true. And I’m not leaving him behind.”
Hans’s frown was a scowl now, and his eyes glinted with a certain amount of menace. “And everything I’ve said is true, too, milady. You’re coming with us to the Empire. It’s just a matter of how pleasant that trip is for you.”
“I wouldn’t make those threats, if I were you. Not if you want to leave this forest alive.”
Hans turned to look, but Annette didn’t have to. She’d seen the careful, confident way Felix walked into battle countless times before. He only spoke with that much arrogance when his sword was already drawn.
There was an intolerable smugness in his voice right now. She almost smiled, to hear it.
Hans stepped to the side, moving away from Annette and the riverbank and towards Felix.
“I should have known when I saw that Zoltan. I’ve sold countless swords to men like you,” he sneered. “You think you can just take what you want, and just buy your right to it. You think just because you have a prized blade, you can tell everyone around you what to do.”
“I didn’t buy my skill with a blade; I earned it,” Felix spat back. “But even with a Zoltan, no, I don’t think I can tell everyone around me what to do. I’ve never in my life told her what to do, for example.” He nodded towards Annette. “And unless you want to get hit in the head with the strongest wind spell in Fódlan, you’ll stop telling her what to do, too.”
Hans looked over at Annette, and for the first time that day, he was the one who took a step backwards.
Annette balanced the greenish sphere of light in the palm of her hand, pulled back with the tautness of a bowstring by a metric no archer could measure. Wind whipped around them all, now, Annette’s hair and sleeves floating unnaturally.
“A mage,” Hans said, and his eyes narrowed again as he reassessed the scene. “So you aim to fight against your own land, just as he does.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Annette said. Her voice was apologetic enough that Felix gave her a bewildered look. “We don’t, Felix!” she protested. She swung the sphere of light back towards Hans. “I really am glad you’ll make it safely to your destination. But I’m not going with you. And you’re not asking again.”
“The whole of the Dukedom is looking for you,” Hans said. “When the Empire hears of this, the whole of the Empire will be looking for you, too.”
“Tell them, then,” Felix said. Annette glanced over at him as he walked towards her. He angled the Zoltan between her and Hans, sliding his hand around her waist. “Tell them Annette Dominic has the Shield of Faerghus at her side, and she’s raising an army to take the Kingdom back.”
Hans looked at Annette, and for a moment, she saw a flash of regret in his eyes.
“You had your chance, my lady,” he said as he backed away from them. “I pray you won’t regret the decision you’ve made.”
Annette waited until he was gone from sight to drop her arms, the light disappearing from her hands. She could feel the influx of magic slowly dissipating – from the air, from her hands, from her bloodstream – and she felt her knees shaking as her adrenaline subsided.
Felix sheathed his sword and caught her elbow, one hand still around her waist.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking her up and down with an intensity Annette could remember following some of their toughest battles.
“I’m okay,” she said, turning towards him and tilting his chin until he looked down at her properly. “We’re okay.” She sighed. “That – that could have gone better.”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone with him,” Felix said. “I thought – well, I wouldn’t want to talk to me, if I were you. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“You weren’t,” Annette said. She offered him a small smile. “But you came back.”
“Of course I came back,” Felix said. “I couldn’t – I wouldn’t –”
He trailed off, looking down at her, and Annette wanted to know what he was going to say, but she also wanted for him to keep looking at her like that. He pressed against the small of her back just slightly, and she leaned in, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, tilting her chin up just slightly . . .
Sprinkles snorted loudly from a few yards away, and they both jerked away from each other.
“We should probably go,” Annette said.
“Imperial sympathizers on our tail,” Felix agreed. “Yep.”
He didn’t drop her hand as he led her over to the horse, and Annette could feel them slipping back into what they’d had before. They could both forget the things they’d said and move on, and eventually they’d have more important things to worry about than –
“Hey, um,” Felix said, stopping Annette before she could clamber up onto Sprinkles’ back. “Listen. I wanted to say – I’m sorry.”
“What?” Annette thought maybe she’d misheard. It wasn’t a word Felix seemed to know.
Felix closed his eyes and winced. “I know I’ve been – well, you said it. I’ve been a jerk today. And last night. And most of my life. But especially today.” He opened his eyes, but didn’t quite look at her. “I said some things I shouldn’t have. I just know – well, you could be back in Dominic, and it’s my fault that you’re here, and every time I try to keep you safe I just end up pushing you somewhere you didn’t ask to be.” He sighed and looked down at her, finally. “Like next to me. And I’m sorry for that.”
“Felix,” Annette said. She reached up and cupped his cheek, trying to keep him from looking away. “I chose this. I chose to be here.” She paused, thinking carefully before she spoke again. “I chose you.” She smiled, because it felt nice to say. “That part was always true. You know that, right?”
Felix leaned down to kiss her, and that was enough of an answer for both of them.
The kiss swept through her like magic, like laughter, like sunshine. Felix leaned in quickly, impulsively, but he pulled back with a hesitation almost immediately, as if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing. But by then, Annette had returned the kiss, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling Felix down to her, and he kissed her back with a dizzying intensity. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her against him, desperate and protective and sweet, and when Annette finally pulled away she was giggling, caught up in the wonderful absurdity of it all.
“We should probably talk about this before we get to Garreg Mach,” she said. “But I guess first, we should probably go.”
Felix held out his hand to help her up onto the horse, his gloved hand warm and soft against Annette’s bare skin. For a second, he ran his thumb down her ring finger, a gentle and appraising motion that sent a shiver down Annette’s arm.
That was a conversation for later, too.
They rode very fast, and long into the night, leaving a ruined past for an uncertain future. Felix held onto Annette very tight, and it felt as if now that he’d held her properly, he would never be able to let her go.