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Thronè couldn’t sleep.
The winds of Stormhail wailed outside her and Castti’s tent, sounding like the screams of the damned. She shifted this way and that, but the memories of the day kept haunting her no matter how tightly she closed her eyes. All that blood, pooled in the snow…
Luckily, Castti was a heavy sleeper, or she would be worried about waking the other woman with her tossing and turning.
Restless, Thronè sat up and slipped on her shoes. If she was going to be up anyway, she might as well relieve Osvald of his watch.
She pressed a quick kiss to Castti’s temple, then slipped silently out of the tent.
Outside, Thronè was surprised to find Osvald nowhere to be seen. Instead, Temenos was sitting across from her, staring into the fire.
“You’ll catch your death out here,” Thronè said, soft as not to startle him.
Temenos didn’t look up at her. “I’ll be fine,” he said, tone uncharacteristically emotionless.
Thronè bit her lip and made her way through the snow, sitting down on the log next to him. “Mind if I sit with you?”
His mouth was a flat line. “Do what you will.”
She threw a twig into the fire, more as something to do than an actual need to make it brighter. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“The last time I slept, someone very dear to me died,” Temenos said brusquely, “You can imagine I’m not keen to repeat the incident.”
Thronè winced. “Temenos… I’m so sorry.”
His expression tightened. “You have no need to apologize. The fault lies with me.”
“Hey, don’t blame yourself,” Thronè said with a frown, “Blame that Sanctum Knight woman. She was the one who-”
“I know what she did,” Temenos said hollowly. “I’m simply saying that if Crick wasn’t helping me, he wouldn’t have died. Thus, I deserve at least a portion of the blame.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Thronè chided. “If Crick hadn’t been helping you, you probably would be dead by now, and we would all be dead too. Don’t give me that look-” she said when Temenos frowned at her. “Not even you can handle yourself 100% of the time. He kept you alive.”
Temenos looked away. “And look how I returned the favor.”
“Temenos…” Thronè wished she were Castti or even Agnea, able to soothe hurts with a few kind words and a smile. But no, she was herself, all sharp edges and directness. She wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing.
But still, Temenos was suffering and Temenos was her friend. She couldn’t just sit here and watch it happen.
“You know,” Temenos said before she could think of the next thing to say. “He told me once that I doubted everything, even the gods. But that wasn’t true. I never doubted him. Not once.”
The fire’s reflection gave his normally cold eyes an eerie look, like they were glowing with rage. Thronè almost shuddered. She had never seen him so angry. Irate, yes, put off, certainly, but never this furious, like a piece of him had been ripped out of his chest and burnt in front of him.
Truth be told, it scared her a little.
“We’ll get her,” Thronè said quietly.
“Oh, rest assured,” Temenos said with a cheerfulness that rang false. “When I find Kaldena, I will take her apart piece by piece and feed her to the nearest pack of wild dogs. But I appreciate the concern.”
Thronè couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment, as unnerving as the delivery was. “I’d be happy to help.”
Temenos’ face twisted into a grimace. “Thank you, Thronè. You’re a true friend.”
Silence fell between them for a few moments. Thronè added another branch to the fire and cursed the cold wind that threatened to put it out. It seemed like all this accursed place knew how to do was to take.
“Can I ask you something?” Temenos said, snapping Thronè out of her reverie.
“Shoot.”
“How did…” Temenos trailed off, looking pained. He seemed to be considering each one of his words carefully. “How did you know you were in love with Castti?”
Thronè thought for a moment. “It hit me when I thought I lost her that time. You remember.”
Temenos nodded stiffly.
“At that moment, I realized that she mattered more to me than anything else. That I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with her absence in my chest. That I would kill and die to keep her safe and by my side. But since then, I’ve realized that she makes me so happy, that warmth blooms in my chest when I see her smile. She makes me want to be better than I am. That’s how I know I love her.”
Thronè glanced over a Temenos and was shocked to find tears silently sliding down his face. It hit her with hurricane force, then, why he had asked and what that meant. “Oh, Temenos…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Temenos said, voice shaking. “It wouldn’t have and doesn’t change anything. But I would have liked-” He took a shuddering breath. “I would have liked to have had more time.”
Before she could change her mind, Thronè reached out and wrapped her arms around Temenos. He stiffened but didn’t pull away, which was something, at least.
“It matters,” Thronè mumbled. “It sure as hell matters.”
“No,” Temenos said despairingly. “No, it doesn’t. Because if it did, he’d still be here. If the gods were truly fair and good, then I wouldn’t be sitting here, drowning in my regret, while he’s gone.”
Thronè looked up at him. “The gods are bastards,” she said bluntly. “Always have been.”
Temenos chuckled weakly. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?”
“Listen,” Thronè said, “You’re a detective, look at the evidence. You couldn’t have known Crick would have gone on his own.”
“I might as well have forced him to do so,” Temenos said, weariness creeping into his tone. “I challenged his entire worldview, then told him to do something about it. I should have known how that would end up.”
Thronè pursed her lips. “No one can tell the future, Temenos. Not even you.”
“If I had…” Temenos began with some difficulty. “If I had said something, invited him to my room, anything, then-”
“Then the Sanctum Knights would have found another way to dispose of him, and probably you along with it.”
Temenos stared into the fire. “At least we would have gone down together.”
Thronè smacked him lightly, causing him to start. “No, you’re not going to talk like that. It’s not what Crick would want.”
Temenos’ eyes flashed. “How would you-?”
Then he deflated. “No. No, you’re right. I refuse to let his death be in vain.”
For a minute, there was only the sound of the crackling fire between them. Then: “I kept seeing him, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Thronè probed as gently as she was capable.
“When I was… When we were investigating his death. I kept seeing his shade. Leading me to the answers.”
“Temenos, that’s-”
“Impossible? Against everything I was ever taught to believe? Trust me. I know.” Temenos’ hands were curled into fists against his robes. “But I know what I saw.”
Thronè thought about the ghosts Castti had quietly told her about, those of her dead compatriots, bringing her to the truth. “I believe you.”
Temenos looked at her for a long while, then sighed. “Still, when it comes down to it, I would much rather him be at peace than continue to visit me. As much as it pains me.”
“I understand,” Thronè said, then slowly pulled away. “That’s why we have to go out there and get Kaldena and put an end to all of this.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Temenos said. There was still tension in his body, but he seemed more alive than he had been before. Thronè was grateful for that, at least.
“Still,” he continued, giving a long exhale. “I don’t think I’m going to sleep tonight.”
“That’s alright,” Thronè said, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Mind if I stay up with you?”
Temenos smiled at her. It was weak, but it was genuine.
“It would be my privilege.”