Exposed emotions lead to death.

Irina remained displeased with the sentiments expressed over the past few days. Any overt indication of her feelings could lead to a punishment, or worse. Thus, she decided it best to leave the room following Suzerain Abran's decision. If he questioned her later, Irina would blame her monthly womanly burden. No man enjoyed such a conversation and would not dare to question its authenticity.

A few weeks ago, Abran's words would not have mattered. Irina would have continued to play her role of the dutiful Suzera. A lady and warrior elegantly cocooned within silk and lace, able to contain her emotions. But, now, the ability to not picture Suzerain Abran decapitating her parents, when he spoke of capitalizing on Vetus's pain, alluded her. She could still remember her heart contracting while watching her parents fall to their knees. Still, she remembers the komans looking at her for guidance as she cried.

A real Suzera let the blood run until it dried. She could not see one more person die. And, she shuttered at the thought of almost losing more men in the most recent raid involving Shaed's unit of soldiers.

Shaed. The idiot had dominated her thoughts for far too long. She should have beheaded him when she had the opportunity.

Quick footsteps echoed behind her own. She glanced over her shoulder and scowled. Irina knew she did not have enough composure for this conversation. She needed to escape.

Irina hurried her steps, unwilling to be poised at present. Konrik Loren had exhausted her abilities to maintain her composure in Preena.

***

"What do you think of this statue Lady Irina?" he asked.

Irina took a moment to consider the ice sculpture. It seemed her response had taken too long, for he quickly filled her turn with thoughts of his own.

"Well observed, Konrik," Irina replied with a smile.

She honestly did her best to let his words melt out of her brain. Instead, her mind began a mental commentary of the proceedings while she continued to appear enamored with him externally. This practice would sometimes become onerous when Korak Fallyn spoke. The Korak had a way of agitating Irina's nerves with a simple look. Thankfully, Lady Toria's muff and glove battle provided Irina the entertainment and buffer she required.

Irina did not expect etiquette and maintaining a gentleman's high esteem to be so exhausting. It had never been to so—well, to the same extent—with Shaed.

Shock and unrest filled Irina during those moments where she let herself question what Shaed would think of the affairs in Preena. Things like, What would he have thought of Lady Toria's mental-warfare techniques? What would he say about this ice sculpture?

Oh, the latter one was dangerous. Sometimes, Irina knew Shaed's response would be one that let her lady-like "propriety" melt to nothing but a memory.

"Oh, that is such a fascinating insight, Konrik." Irina smiled, willing thoughts of Shaed away from her mind. "I will reflect on that further."

Irina turned slightly, accidentally bumping Korak Fallyn with her muff.

"Oh," Irina blushed. "Excuse me, Korak Fallyn. Sometimes I forget I am wearing this. It is just so comfortable and warm."

Korak Fallyn provided her a thin-lipped smile.

***

Irina stopped her thoughts. She did not need to reflect on what happened in Preena anymore. That diplomatic mission ended. Well, for now, at least. And, unfortunately, after being such a success, their exit left her flustered and unsure.

***

"There has been an attack on Shaed's troop," Zakarus hissed into her ear as they pressed through the crowd. "Do not stop; remember your training."

Irina felt a chill run through her body. Shaed could be dead. All of her musings of him would only ever be musings. She would never be able to—

***

Irina stopped the memory. She should not venture there with such raw emotions. Even though she knew her distress stemmed from her uncle's decision regarding Vetus. It had nothing to do with her being emotionally spent from Preena and then the fear of—well, it does not matter.

The footsteps behind Irina increased in pace, and, in turn, she sped up her own.

The audacity of Zak to be so hypocritical, reminding me of my training and then letting his father be so, so, horrible! Could he not be like the Suzerains and Suzeras of the past? Are we simple brutes? Irina shook her head at the thoughts. She brought her hand up to wipe away salty water from her cheek.

The momentary weakness let the memories breakthrough.

***

Irina finished a flute of champagne along their exit route. She should not have thought of Shaed bleeding out in a place far away from her. Irina already knew death and what it could leave unsaid. And, of course, Shaed would be cliche enough to die, or almost die, after their fight. He always found a way to vex her.

She scowled at the thought while helping the maids to pack her trunks. They would need to hurry so that she could lecture him about his life choices. Even if he laid on his death bed, she would let him know that he should make better choices in his next life.

The scowl did well to cover her fears along the silent journey home. Zakarus warned her that they would not stop, and so she found herself either staring out the window or sleeping to pass the time.

Anger has a way of brewing. So, the fear and vexation Irina felt erupted into one when she saw Shaed waiting for them on the steps. He waved so casually it appeared as if he teased her by not being as close to death as she imagined.

"Is he smiling?" she hissed.

"It looks like it," Zakarus yawned as the carriage came to a stop.

Irina scrambled to exit the carriage first, making Zak mutter a curse when she stepped on his foot. Then, she took a few measured steps towards Shaed before slapping him across the face.

"If you are to have a near-death experience, please learn not to be so cliche as to have it after we argue," she seethed.

"If that is the case, it is unlikely that I will ever die," Shaed retorted sharply, holding his chin.

Irina huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, that is your issue to figure out."

Zakarus approached the two warily and yawned.

"I am glad to see you are okay, Koman Sutter," he muttered, patting Shaed on the shoulder while walking past.

Shaed's initial spark of anger quelled on seeing the different emotions in Irina's eyes. The fear he saw within the flames made him hope for something he could not place. And, the forgotten feeling simmered inside the center of his chest when she hugged him.

"Are you hurt?" she whispered, releasing him to do a quick examination; seeing no overt signs of injury, Irina sighed. "Koman Sutter, next time you scare me, please return with some form of a battle scar."

"Well, I got a bruise on my chest," Shaed shrugged, pulling at his shirt.

Irina's cheeks reddened. "Koman Sutter! You always forget that I am a lady!"

The awkward pause that followed allowed Irina to escape with the excuse of needing to celebrate with whisky. Anything to not think of Shaed's bruised chest, a chest that might compare to one of the statues in the Preenian garden.

***

A forgotten uncertainty surfaced. What would be worse, romantic feelings towards Shaed or wishing to kill the reigning Suzerain? For four years, she had denied both. And Irina would be pissed off if she lost her position of power based now. Empathy is damned here.

***

Zakarus, Irina, and Shaed had settled in their usual study. A bottle of whisky sat on the center table.

Irina smirked at Zakarus as he laid across the love seat, half asleep. Unfortunately, she could not recall if he slept at all on their journey home.

"It is uncertain what would have become of the people if we were not in Port," Shaed sighed, placing his whisky on the table. "For that, I consider it a victory. No matter what Suzerain Abran says, ten soldiers lost is far better than what Vetus suffered and could continue to endure. The broken swords tell me that these raiders are not our brothers."

"Did the people of Port lose any of their crops?" Zakarus muttered from the couch.

Shaed shrugged. "A few fields got burned, but we stopped the rest."

"I am glad," Irina sighed. "It would be tragic for them to go through the same suffering as Tillen. To think of having family members slaughtered and losing all your crops. Perhaps we should warn Princess Amnicity about the swords?"

Zakarus's head perked up to look at his cousin. And, as expected, her innocent smile did not match the teasing expressed in her eyes. "We are not that close," he stated.

"You looked to be establishing some level of confidence in Preena," Irina shrugged with a slight smirk.

"Not that friendly," he muttered.

Irina's ears pricked at the hint of regret in his tone. It made her heart clench, and her gaze transition to one of pity.

She licked her lips before speaking. "Perhaps—"

"Stop Irina," Zakarus ordered, closing his eyes to end the conversation.

***

Irina paused.

These memories needed to stop. They only caused frustration for an observer. Irina did not have the confidence to warn Princess Amnicity without Zakarus's consent. How would she even compose the letter to tell her that Vetus's iron swords were shabby and used by a group of raiders without banners or honor?

Perhaps it could start by sharing empathy as another person who has lost her parents to the sword. No—stop, Irina!

Zak was right to think they lacked a connection. Irina only felt empathy because her cousin had intentions for the Princess, which could lead to peace.

I want peace is all, no more blood. That's what Zak needs to—

Zak's stern voice cut through her thoughts. "Irina!"

Stupid, delusional men who unaware of better paths. Zakarus only required one move for peace to be found. Irina would not be the person to tell him what to do. She remained a lady with composure—the perfect balance of silk and lace without steel.

Do not think of steel.

"Iri! Suzera Irina, your Suzerain demands you slow down!" He screamed. The words echoed off the wall, irritating Irina's nerves further.

Irina turned into a spare room, leaving the door open for Zakarus to enter while taking deep breaths. She brushed a few tears from her cheeks while clenching and releasing her hands. A frustrated hiss slipped from between her teeth as she regained her composure. He joined her a moment later, closing the door softly behind him.

"You are not my Suzerain," Irina hissed. "Such a fact became clear when you easily bowed to the will of your father."

"Iri," Zakarus moved to touch her arm.

"No, Zak." Irina sneered, pulling her arm away.

Composure be damned.

"I am doing what is best for—"

"Bullshit," Irina scoffed. "I mean, Abran would be pleased to see every person die for his gain. But, d not try to make me believe this is for the safety of Jude. If Abran did not wish for Judians to die, he would not be readily going to war. I do not care how often their swords will break upon ours. The blood would not be worth it."

"Iri," Zak sighed, moving a step closer to her with an outstretched hand.

Irina held up her hands and took a few steps away from him. "Do not try to calm me down. We both know it would be better if you united Jude and Vetus through a marriage with Princess Amnicity. I could see how much you liked her, and—"

"My father has done many things, but he would not put his people to death for his gain," Zakarus interrupted her.

He skillfully ignored the mention of Princess Amnicity. That was not a subject he wished to discuss.

"Just his family," Irina hissed.

Or that one. Zakarus turned his eyes away from the pain on his cousin's face. He moved to look out the window to regain his thoughts.

Irina took the moment of silence to compose herself. She had not meant to say the words to harm him. They just escaped in a moment of passion.

"I just want you to consider the other options," she whispered.

Zakarus could feel the desperation in her gaze on his back.

A long sigh escaped him before he spoke. "King Valander has not responded to my offer, and so it is now time for my father's approach."

Zakarus's defeated eyes turned back to his cousin. He had wanted to marry Princess Amnicity. For peace and other reasons.

"You create excuses to conceal the possibilities. We do not need war. If he cannot see it, then perhaps it is time for you to act like his son."

The cousins stood within the room, eyes refusing to part. Irina knew she wished to see Abran die one day. But, she did not expect herself to say for it to be done by her cousin today.

"We would support you," she whispered so softly Zakarus was unsure if he even heard it correctly.

Zakarus held her gaze, knowing we meant the komans who were still loyal to her. He could have a majority if he did this. It would be an easy coupe. Perhaps it could even help him gain Princess Amnicity's hand. It is easy to deny an heir, but who could deny a ruling Suzerain?

A knock at the door paused the conversation. The cousins met each other's gaze in slight fear.

"Enter," Zakarus ordered.

The door opened to reveal Shaed holding a letter.

"Your screams scared all the messengers. So, it has been put upon me, the lowly koman, to deliver your letter." He casually entered, holding a letter up for them to see.

Irina and Zakarus shared a glance. Shaed furrowed his eyebrows as he closed the door behind him.

His volume fell to match the caution on their faces. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Could you hear what we were just speaking of?" Irina whispered.

Shaed's eyes met Irina's for a moment as he journeyed to Zakarus. "No, I thought murmuring voices meant I could enter without fear of death."

Irina smirked as Shaed handed a letter to Zakarus. The Suzerain stared at the Vetusian seal for a moment before pulling a knife from his boot. He gently released the seal to avoid further conversation.

"Now, Shaed, would you fear death when I am nearby?" she almost cooed.

A slow smile formed upon Zakarus's lips with each word his eyes obtained.

"There is always a risk of you deciding to steal a sword because you are bored with being a lady. Did you not say that I should be afraid of your blade?" Shaed asked Irina, ignoring Zakarus's reaction to the letter.

Shaed's smirk only widened under Irina's blush and mocking glare. He liked knowing he still affected her.

"Who is the letter from?" Irina sighed, transitioning her attention away from a man who already occupied too many of her thoughts.

"King Valander," Zakarus sighed in relief while folding the letter.

Zakarus hurried to the door and slammed the door behind him.

Shaed crossed his arms and scoffed. "What was that about?"

Shaed's bewilderment turned to a soft smile on seeing Irina's face. He had not seen her with this look upon her face in years. It was a mixture of happiness and hope.

"Our people are safe," Irina breathed out while clenching onto the fabric of her dress.

A soft laugh escaped from her. She hugged Shaed without thinking. He stood in shock for a moment before letting his arms rest around her.

Shaed was shocked to find that she still smelled like a mixture of lilac and grass. It was as if they had never stopped running around, rolling in the fields between training drills. She was still the same, his Iri. Shaed could not help the feeling of warmth he felt when she hugged him. A sense of unmistakable pride, knowing that Irina still cared for him in some way. They still had something.

But, what do we still have? She was just in Preena to woe Konrik Loren for a political game. What could I offer her? A voice cut into Shaed's thoughts, making his hands stop pulling her closer.

"I have to go see," she muttered, detangling herself from him.

Shaed watched Irina as she moved towards the door. Her dress was too delicate to roll around in the fields now. Irina's dark tresses were now perfectly placed upon her head instead of rolling over one shoulder in a braid. She knew of things that he did not and partook in political games he never wanted to play. These were just their stolen moments—ghosts from their past.

Irina closed the door behind her.

She's not mine anymore.

***

Oh, Shaed and Irina. At least there seems to be a little hope for Zakarus. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!

Edited: 6/26/21