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They hide it in the brushing of knuckles as they pass each other by, in exchanged glances, in words uttered when possible, though always too many are left unsaid.
Only under the cover of trees, accompanied by the mage she can't stay away from, does Bek feel truly free. Yet still she finds herself constantly wishing for more — even as their knees brush and a warm hand wraps around hers — wishing for a future they both know to be impossible. And worse she can't escape her own mind echoing again and again what she once swore:
Protection.
Honour.
Truth.
She meets Eloise's steady blue gaze of which moonlight shimmers within, and she's suddenly engulfed by a feeling of almost... grief. Grief for her knighthood, grief for a relationship that's hardly had the chance to begin, who knows.
Mere weeks ago she could never have imagined herself becoming so infatuated with anyone, let alone an enemy mage.
“How can something so wrong feel so right?”
She only realises she's wondered this aloud at the shift in Eloise's expression, who leans closer to murmur,
“We aren't wrong.”
Bek closes her eyes and sighs.
Maybe one day she’ll be able to believe it.