Bernard kissed her hair gently, simply present.
"What am I going to do?" she whispered. "I've never done anything else."
"I know a place you could go," Bernard replied. "It's a little rough, but there are good people there. There's a man there who has a lot of folk to care for. He could use the help of an intelligent, courageous, and talented woman."
She tightened her arms around him, just soaking up the warmth of him. "Yes?"
"Mmmmm. Countess Calderon. It suits you. And I've wanted to see you in my colors since…"
"Since when?"
"Since I bandaged your ankle," he replied.
"I suppose I'd need some clothes," she said sleepily. "Dresses, perhaps. I've never owned more than one."
"I can afford them," he said.
"I'd never thought about doing this," she said. "Being a wife."
"A wife with a great many hostile wind furies about," Bernard said. "Not to mention a full military garrison to help oversee. I'm afraid there won't be much time for knitting."
"I'm terrible at knitting," she replied with a yawn. "Well. Except for a mail coat, once."
"We can hire someone for knitting, then." He kissed her forehead. "I've hoped we could be together. Actually together."
"So have I," Amara whispered. "I just never thought it would happen."
"With the rebellion over," Bernard said, "there's bound to be better times ahead. It will be a good time to settle down. Maybe even start a family. We'll finally have time to try again."
Amara smiled. "Mmmm. A good wife embraces even the most tedious chores."
Bernard murmured, "Oh, really?" He moved his hand.
Amara's breath caught in her throat as her heat sped up. "Aren't you tired?"
Evidently, he wasn't.
Isana watched Gaius depart the improvised command building from her chambers in the small, restored home across the ruined street. He took to the air and vanished, all in the same motion, as if he had simply become the wind. No more than a handful of people even saw him leave.
"He had the document case with him," she reported quietly.
"Tavi guessed correctly," Araris said. He stood in her doorway, watching her.
Isana turned, glancing uneasily down at the gown she wore-dark, muted shades of scarlet and blue, a sedate gown suitable for the widow of one Prin-ceps and mother of another, and it was quite the most expensive dress she had ever owned. A makeshift wardrobe in the room held several other outfits every bit as costly, and much more suitable for the Princeps Matron than her simple grey dress. The outfits had been a gift from "Free Alera," which Isana suspected in this case meant Varg and his young Aleran aide de camp, Durias.
"I almost wish he hadn't been right," she murmured. "Over the sea. Surrounded by Canim. Facing the Vord."
"Perhaps," Araris said. "Perhaps not. Personally, I'm glad. I couldn't protect him here. Not against the kind of people who will want him dead."
"I understand the reasoning behind it." Isana sighed. "And I know he's developed into something far more than the boy I raised, and that he has obligations and duties, Araris, but crows take it, he's still my boy. I hate to see him go so far from home."
"My lady," Araris said, gently mocking sternness, "a woman of your station should not curse."
Isana gave him a level look, and the swordsman smiled in reply. "I'll watch over him."
She couldn't help but return the smile a little. "You always have."
His smile faded. "It's you I'm worried about," he said. "The First Lord is sure to summon you to the capital to help rally support for Octavian. And Lady Aquitaine isn't going to like that."
Isana waved an unconcerned hand. "She'll adjust. She's practical in that way."
"I'm serious, Isana," Araris said. "You're going to be in danger."
"When have I not been?" she asked, and she heard the uncharacteristic note of sharpness in her voice. "Honestly, Araris? I've lived my whole life afraid, and I'm sick to death of it."
Araris frowned at her, folding his arms.
"Somewhere out there are men and women who would gladly conspire to murder my son," she continued in the same tone. "They may well be many of the same souls responsible for murdering my husband." The sudden rage inside her almost seemed to force her chin up, and her words came out crisply bitten. "I won't have it."
Araris's eyebrows climbed.
'I've made many friends, Araris. I've learned a great deal about Alera's leading Citizens. I'm going to find those responsible for killing Septimus. I'm going to find those who might wish to do harm to Octavian. And great furies help them when I do." She felt her voice shaking with the ferocity and weight of her feelings. "Don't waste your time being afraid for me. I don't care who they are. I'm going to find them. And destroy them."
He walked across the room to her and ran the fingertips of one hand over the curve of her cheek. "That," he said quietly, "is what I'm afraid of."
Isana's sudden, hot fury faltered, and she lowered her eyes.
He lowered his head until he caught her eyes. Then he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the mouth, returning to gaze intently at her. "Don't become what you aren't, Isana."
She leaned her cheek against his hand. "I wish that we…"
He stepped up and put his arms around her, and she leaned against him gratefully. "Shhh," he said. "The time isn't right yet. If we wed now, it would cause issues, now that Octavian's name is loose. He will need all the support he can secure, at first. If wild rumors about our relationship and how it's tied to Septimus's death start circulating, it will make the work much harder."
"They'd do that, wouldn't they?" She sighed. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right," he murmured. "I can wait. For you, I can wait."
She found herself smiling a little. "What do I do?"
He hugged her tight. "Keep your eyes and ears open. Don't let them drive you to behaving as they do."
She held him in return, and they were silent and together for several moments.
"I'd best go," he said quietly. "I don't want to get too far from him."
Isana nodded. They kissed again, and Araris hurried toward Tavi.
Isana watched him go, and bit her lip as the door to the command building opened and she caught a glimpse of Tavi.
Of Octavian.
She thought of what it would be like to bury him, and shuddered.
That would not happen. She would do whatever she must in order to make sure of it.