26. Kavian

"Do you have everything?" I ask, looking down at Meera as she shuffles up and down the stairs, finding her belongings—belongings she and I purchased during her time in Ikoth.

She came to me with almost nothing but the clothes on her back. Rebuilding and getting her acclimated to life here has been difficult.

And now I'm sending her away again.

It's a painful realization I'm still suppressing.

But it's for the best, I think. At least this way, she has a chance at survival.

By now, I've all but confirmed to myself that here at the mansion, she's an easy way for them to get to me. I've also accepted that we need to move fast and that there's little time for goodbyes.

Still, if I send her out in the wilderness, what chance do I have at protecting her myself? How safe is she, away from my eyes?

Her response takes me out of my burdensome inner monologue.

"I'm going as fast as I can," she says. "I'm just not sure what to take, and what to leave. I don't know when I'm going to see you next."

"Leave nothing behind," I caution.

My tone is unnaturally stern, and I realize at her dejected face that I've said something wrong.

"Look, I still don't know what they're going to do to me, or to this place," I add. "Gorran is one giant piece of shit, so I wouldn't be surprised if…"

The possibilities run through my mind.

I can see him burning my mansion to the ground and flaying me alive.

I can see him taking me prisoner somewhere and forcing me to work, like some common slave.

Not that I'm going to give him that chance. If he sets foot here, I'm going to raze the ground beneath him, leaving him a charred shadow.

But I can already see how distressing this situation is, so I don't explain that this place she's come to love might not be here if she ever returns.

"I just don't really know about the musical instruments you bought me," she says. "They're heavy and unwieldy, and I think traveling light might be better?"

I nod.

But when she heads to Zilinthas, I don't want her to fall back into the life she knew before she knew me. I don't want her to take as little as possible, doing without entertainment and things to keep her sane in trying times.

I want her to keep appreciating beauty the same way I have.

It's going to be okay, I think. I'm going to get out of this just fine. And then we'll be reunited as if nothing ever happened.

But convincing myself to see beyond this moment, when I'll soon be watching her carriage depart, is incredibly taxing.

How could I live in the hollow halls of this mansion again, with nobody left for company? I can already feel them tugging at my sanity preemptively.

But even before I met Meera, I was certain that my life was missing something. Now that she's leaving it for real, and I've known exactly what was absent in my life, how can I legitimately part with it?

Every passing moment fills me with dread. There's still so much uncertainty lingering in the air.

Am I really doing the right thing? Is she safer away from me than with me?

If she winds up getting injured because of a mistake I made, I'm not sure I could live with myself.

The roads seem far more foreboding than the walls of this home. Roving bandits thrive in them, and there are captors far less scrupulous, who would gladly take Meera under their ownership illegally.

I'm doing a lot of this on blind faith.

Running my hands along the banister, I bring myself up to the next floor, where I hear Meera rummaging around.

I watch as she stuffs as much as she can into her luggage, crouching down beside her bed.

"Can I do anything to help?"

She nearly jumps several feet.

Her head swivels to look up at me.

"I mean, I'll probably need your help hauling this downstairs," she says. "But I'm good for now."

I nod, just content to watch her as she returns to packing.

I want to cherish every moment of her in this house. I'd love to cuddle up next to her, just feeling her against me one more time, but I know that time will come.

Soon, I'll be able to give her a proper goodbye. Right now, she's preparing.

It was hard enough convincing her to leave the mansion.

There are still rooms I could hide her in—secret passages under this mansion, leading nowhere, and hidden hallways that lead everywhere in the mansion.

But it's not enough.

From the time I was young, when this was my parent's house, I've always treasured the magic of this place. And I'm glad that I've been able to share it with her in return, to give her a glimpse of the privileged life I enjoyed.

It's been so brief though. I always thought we'd be able to enjoy our journey together much longer.

How long has it been? Mere weeks? Months?

Our time together has felt so long, and yet so short.

Get yourself together.

My cold and calm exterior is beginning to fade. I feel myself losing a grip on the strength and intimidation I project, and I realize that even a moment of vulnerability is ample time for my enemies to sneak in and unravel me.

And I can't let that happen. Not when I need to be strong for Meera.

I pace aimlessly through the hallways, polishing suits of armor for almost no reason. Perhaps it's to pass the time so that I don't have to deal with the oppressive burden of our inevitable parting.

I want her out of the mansion. I want to take this dagger my enemies have lodged in me and rip it out if only to get it over with.

If she's going to leave, I hope that it's soon, so that I no longer have to bear what I know is coming.

"Are you okay?"

I look up from where I'm resting, on the hard hallway floor. The torches are burning brightly even though the sun is already up.

Meera stands above me, a small satchel in her hands.

"Fine," I grumble simply. "Why?"

She purses her lip.

"Well, it's just that you're really wearing down that armor," she replies. "I think it's probably plenty polished by now."

I smile simply in response.

"Of course." I nod. "Thank you for the reminder."

Her eyes dart awkwardly from side to side.

"I didn't mean that you couldn't help pack," she says. "If you want to help, feel free."

I nod.

"How much did you say this carriage could fit again?" she asks.

I start to reply, but she waves her hand.

She gestures for me to follow, and I mirror her pace, moving along the hallway which will soon be empty once more.

When I'm alone, I don"t often maintain these halls. I used to have a servant for exactly that purpose. Now, Vex is the closest thing I have to help, and he only jokes about it.

I can already feel myself wasting away here.

But as Meera leads me back toward her bedroom, and I'm standing in the doorway looking in, I have to suppress a laugh.

The room is piled high with luggage. I didn't even know she had this much to her name.

"I hope you don't mind, but I might be borrowing a few things, to remember you by," Meera suggests.

I take a second to collect myself, feeling my lips that were earlier curled upward start to narrow.

"Hey, it's better you take them than them being lost in some terrible fire."

That was the part I wasn't supposed to say out loud.

"That's kind of what I figured," she says.

Is Meera a kleptomaniac?

She opens satchels, revealing the first candlestick we ever burned together, some old scuffed silverware, several used and worn quills, among a host of other things that have sentimental value to her, but which I'd just as easily discard.

And she knows what matters to me because nothing in these bags would I ever even remotely consider an heirloom.

Maybe I should stash those somewhere, just in case, I think. I could even have some of that stuff sent along with her anyway, just in case.

"I'm not taking too much, am I?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"Like I told you, the carriage is plenty spacious," I tell her. "So you really don't need to worry about overcrowding it."

I help her carry the large stash of belongings down the stairs, toward the waiting carriage. Some of it is awkward in my arms, but none of it is really heavy.

"You weren't kidding," she says, heaving a sigh of relief as she sets a satchel down next to the carriage. "This thing is huge."

I nod. I swore we'd taken it at least once together. It's larger than the carriage we first took after I rescued her from the auction block.

My only fear is that it might be an easy target for robbers.

Maybe I shouldn't be sending her off on her own, I think. Maybe I should make sure I've got skilled fighters alongside her, rather than just the driver.

"Please don't send me away."

I turn around quickly, and a single tear has formed in her eyes.

I'm not sure what to say. Hearing it is a huge relief—a confirmation of her love for me. But I also can't abandon this course of action now.

We've gotten word that Gorran's men could be mere days away. If we dally even a little bit, she could be caught in the crossfire.

"I never wanted to," I tell her. "I'm only doing this so that one day, we might have a chance."

And I take her in my arms, pressing my face against hers as I kiss her in a strong embrace.

I never want this moment to end. If I could just freeze myself here, knowing that we'd never part ways, forever in her hold, it would be perfect.

If only.

I leave her standing there. My last memory of her is standing there, her eyes still closed, mere moments after her kiss.

I don't want to watch her leave.

I can't bear to say goodbye.

I'll see her soon anyway, I delude myself. Right now, I need to plan.

And I return to the mansion, burying myself in my work.

I try to close my attention off to the cart rolling away. I try to pretend she's still just in the other room, waiting for me.