The forest was just light enough by the moon to risk a run with the horses. Nyssa held tighter to her reins and concentrated on navigating her horse on the road ahead. Jara was to her right, two other soldiers behind them. Admiral Brom had agreed to let her go on a reconnaissance mission to the forest village a day’s ride outside of the academy. Rumours had continued of enemy soldiers being seen in the area two or three times a year since her experience at Cross. Though no direct contact had been made, Madras investigated every one.

Her father was occupied much to the north with civil disputes; a few land barons were warring over territory and it had turned violent. Nyssa, a third-year cadet now and a week shy of her sixteenth birthday, had enough experience and required more credits toward her civil service, which this mission would top up nicely for the year.

She was anxious to return and didn’t feel they should need to stop for the night, but the horses were somewhat stretched. Jara called her out and she reined in, following him off the road to a good spot, slightly hidden and with water nearby. Nyssa was impatient to return but not for any particular reason other than the nagging and searing pain in her side.

“We’re fine here, Nyssa,” Jara said when she returned from a scout to the road. Their trip to the village had been unfruitful. The report had been actually another type of traveller but from the continent of Kitska and though uncommon in the area, they were known to seek out lumber contracts in the interior this time of year. Nyssa nodded and accepted her supper in a cup from him.

Nyssa winced at the stitch in her side or that’s what she thought it was. Several days ago, she’d been sparring in her fencing class and her opponent had won a fantastic match with a double thrust to her torso. She hadn’t felt much at the time, but it had started to hurt that night and steadily got worse over the course of a few days and was especially bad now after riding all day.

Jara had been watching her. “Problem?” he asked her from across the fire. The other soldiers had taken lookout positions, one near the road and one by the stream.

Nyssa could just make them out eating the supper she had just finished bringing them. She turned back to him. “I don’t know,” she admitted, and squirmed against the tree because her clothing felt tight around her ribs and was putting pressure on the spot. “Ow,” she said quietly and breathed shallowly for a second.

Jara rose immediately and came over to her. He knelt down beside her and was about to try to pull up her clothing, but she was thickly layered. “Undo your jerkin,” he said, she frowned.

“I’m fine,” she complained, but he sat back on his heels and pulled out a dagger. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Undo them or I’ll cut them off,” he said. She glared at him but started to do as he asked. When she was done, she moved to take it off, but it pulled her side and she froze.

“Nothing, right?” Jara said unhappily and began gently moving her shirt up on the side.

He cursed when it was exposed. Nyssa looked at him in surprise, but he ignored her and went to the fire to get a burning stick. He held it close to the spot to see by the light of the ember. Nyssa was bruising around a very small, dark red puncture. The bruise had become angry colours and he worried he could see red veins snaking outward from the hole. He leaned close and squeezed it, to which Nyssa howled in sudden pain and after a moment, he was awarded with a putrid puss bursting from the tiny hole. It did not smell overly pleasant.

“We need to go back,” he said, “now.”

Jara called the other two and told them to remount. The princess had an injury that was festering and could get serious. They would ride through the night.

Still on the ground, Nyssa was trying to get his attention.

“Jara, I’m fine,” she said and tried to stand. He came back over with water and a cloth and ignored her completely.

“Why in bloody hell were your instructors using open blades?” he said, after she’d filled him in on the cause and he cursed when the wound continued to ooze. Nyssa was breathing hard. Jara’s hand flew up and covered her forehead for a minute.

“We weren’t,” she said through clenched teeth.

“You’re not running a fever, but that could change fast. We have to move and get you to the infirmary.” He held the cloth against her side, pulled her shirt down and ordered her to retie her jerkin to hold the cloth against the wound.

Getting back on a horse was uncomfortable, but she managed. Riding for five more hours was excruciating. At sunrise, they turned up to the academy grounds. Jara instructed their companions to deliver their report and he took Nyssa directly to the infirmary.

Nyssa felt flush and slightly warm walking into the building, even though the doors and windows were open to the spring air. She was exhausted from being up all night and really didn’t want to be there. She just wanted her bed.

Nyssa didn’t dislike the infirmary or have any issue with its staff, except it was a place that always made her feel inferior for some reason. The last time she’d been to the female nurses station for a “female related concern,” she’d been mortified and concerned she was dying of an unknown, horrible internal injury. Turns out menstruation was normal and not the cause of some inexplicable stabbing injury that caused bleeding from the inside. Nyssa had sat wide-eyed and fascinated as the nurse had slowly taken her time and started explaining to Nyssa, from the beginning, just what the female body was capable of. Nyssa had adamantly disagreed. She thought bleeding monthly was far from “miraculous,” but accepted the nurses’ teachings and instructions for caring for herself and left, feeling stupider than when she went in.

Jara grabbed a passing nurse and explained the situation, getting her attention rather urgently so she rushed over to Nyssa, Jara on her heels.

The nurse immediately felt her forehead, which surprised Nyssa she nearly stumbled backwards.

“She’s warm. We must move her right now and clean her wound,” she said and left them to follow after her. Jara pushed Nyssa from behind so they followed the nurse to a private room.

Nyssa was stripped of her jerkin and shirt. Another nurse came and went to fetch the physician. Nyssa felt the cloth, now stuck to her side, being pulled away and she sucked air through her teeth.

“It is festering,” the nurse agreed. “Please continue to undress, Your Majesty. We’ll need to bathe the wound thoroughly and you’ll be more comfortable.” She then left the room to fetch supplies. Nyssa sat on the edge of the raised bed to catch her breath. Jara immediately began removing her chest bindings, until Nyssa realized what he was doing and both hands went up to her chest.

“I can manage, Jara,” she tried to say, but he shook his head and swatted her hand away. The last tie came loose and the bindings unwound and fell from her body. It felt awesome, but her hands went back up to her breasts. Jara snorted.

“Co-ed dorms, remember?” he said smirking at her. “The girls in my dorm aren’t shy about their chests, Nyssa.”

Nyssa kept her hands where they were. He was two years older than her, his dorm mates likewise. Nyssa was still in the awkward stages of puberty. She’d felt breasts as buds one day and needed to tie them down the next. She felt her body was betraying her at every turn and now left her feeling inadequate daily to the cadets around her. No matter how much she made progress growing up, she was always behind. She didn’t want Jara making those comparisons himself.

Jara had moved on though, his attention returning to her wound.

“Geez, Nyssa, that’s really gross,” he said after a minute. Nyssa rolled her eyes and blew a huge, exasperated breath.

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

The physician entered and the pace changed completely. Jara was shooed out and she missed him suddenly; afraid for no reason — just alone. When the medical stuff was done, her side hurt like fire; in fact, she was sure they had poured fire directly into her wound and she’d cried out in pain. She was further undressed, washed, redressed in a plain shift, propped up in bed, covered in fresh sheets and left to sleep. She had fevered dreams and awoke several times to Jara sponging her forehead, his expression miserable with worry.

In the morning, she awoke and felt better. Though her side hurt, she wasn’t hot anymore. She was thirsty and saw the cup on a table almost too far away. She was reaching for it but pulled too hard and made a noise, instantly waking Jara, who bounded from the chair he was sitting in to get it for her.

“I’m sorry,” she said and drank the whole cup. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He shook his head, trying to adjust to being awake.

“No, I’m good,” he said. “You? Are you hot?” he asked and touched her face. She let him but shook her head. He nodded and she lay back down on her side to watch him. He sat down again.

“You stayed,” she said quietly and her heart was bursting with gratitude.

Her brother had yet to come by, though Jara had sent a message to him at the palace. He shrugged. Then he smiled and nodded.

“Where else would I be?” he said still smiling. “My best friend needed me.”

Nyssa wasn’t sure why it meant so much to her. She’d known Jara now nearly three years and in all that time, she’d seen him every day. But to hear the words out loud meant everything. She nodded to him.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly and smiled.

Nyssa was allowed to leave the next day. While dressing, her brother arrived. She just stared at him.

“There you are!” he said pleasantly and came warmly to her to give her a hug and a kiss. “Leaving already? That is good news!”

“I’ve been here two days,” she said quietly. Patrick looked at her and then at Jara.

“Jara was with you, I was told,” he asked and looked again between them. She nodded. Patrick sighed.

“I was in negotiations with Uli. I wanted to come, but I was told not to bother. You were fine, resting, and he was with you,” he said and threw a thumb behind him at Jara.

“It’s fine, Patrick. I’m fine,” she said and finished her laces on her jerkin. She hopped off the bed and winced but waved him away.

“What the hell happened?” he asked impatiently and a little alarmed she was hurt more than he was informed.

“Fencing accident. We don’t know if the ball fell off or was taken off, but it pierced her side and became infected.” Jara went over to help her with her jacket.

“Well, you don’t think it was malicious, do you?” Patrick asked, moving out of the way. Jara looked at Nyssa, but she didn’t have an answer either.

“We hope not,” Jara said. And they moved to leave the room.

Patrick was frustrated, but he followed them wordlessly. He’d ridden out to the infirmary, but he ended up leading his horse behind them because Nyssa wanted to walk back to the dorms. By the time they arrived, Patrick understood.

“I’m sorry, Nyssa,” he said, the first since they’d left her sickbed. “I should have come to you right away.”

Nyssa turned and gave him a big hug, but she didn’t really have anything else to say.

“I’m placing an inquiry on the fencing instructor with Brom before I return also. If it’s an equipment malfunction, fine. It still needs to be corrected. But if not, it will warn whomever tried that we are watching.”

“Thanks, brother,” she said finally and turned to go up to her room. Jara looked back and nodded to him, but the message was clear. He’d disappointed her and Jara was now the most important person in her life.

Nyssa made it to her room, her injury none the worse for wear, but she felt tired. Jara helped her with her outer clothing and she let him because she liked the attention. She was feeling particularly abandoned now. His company was more familiar than her own kin and she felt she just needed to accept that. The thing was, when her family wasn’t around, she’d begun not to notice. It was when they showed back up that it got odd.

Nyssa sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. She had been thinking about how her brother's graduation was such a celebration for them; he, she, Jara, the whole graduating class. That night they’d celebrated together and the comradery that surrounded them had her feeling sure they would be fast relations and close bosom buddies forever. But within the first week of Patrick moving back home to pick up his internship under their uncle full time, she’d felt the tether break. It had been three months and this had been their first visit.

Jara had moved in directly after, though, and her loneliness was distracted by his attention. They practised together, took study hall together, ate together and took special missions together. Nyssa especially liked working with Jara. She felt they moved at the same rhythm, trusted each other on a level that was rare to find and she felt they were getting stronger with every opportunity. She had been considering asking the admiral to allow her to join more of the Elite training classes early so she could do them with him. That way, their partnership could continue to strengthen.

Only senior year cadets were allowed to sign up for the intensive training courses, though yet again she’d jumped the line and completed several already. Jara, older and already through the last of them, was scheduled to leave in a few weeks for the field final and he’d be gone for two entire months. She’d been trying to hide her anxiety about that and the fact he was set to graduate in less than six months, but being forgotten in the infirmary wasn’t helping.

“What is it?” Jara asked when he caught sight of her face. Nyssa had been staring at the wall for several minutes. She blinked at the sound of his voice. Her eyes alone followed him now, her hands holding her up on either side of her thighs on the bed. She swallowed hard.

“What do you think you’ll do when you graduate, Jara?” she asked.

He had been rewrapping her scabbard and had moved to hanging it on the peg on her wall. He slowed his movements at the question. They’d danced around this reality for the last few months, neither wanting to really discuss it.

“I will put in for my own commission,” he said smoothly. “Captain, colonel, then general. I hope to be assigned to your father, at least until you get out and we can look again and maybe I can come back to you,” he added the end with more enthusiasm in an effort to come off less morbid about the reality they faced.

Military life took you where it wanted you to go, not the other way around. Nyssa would be assigned under her father eventually, but Jara would have to at least wait until she finished. He would have nearly two years to change his mind and choose something else. Nyssa wasn’t sure why, but she felt Jara was more important than any one thing that could separate them. Again, being younger meant ample time to ruin her life all over again and she was more mad than scared now to let it happen.

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Jara saw her distress in her face. None of her reservations about the future of their friendship escaped him either. He came over and sat down beside her. The light was failing and the room was more glowing with the red sunlight than actually being lit. Neither of them wanted to get up and fiddle with a lantern.

“I want to be with you and I know we will be together, somehow, Nyssa,” he said and he covered her hand with his own. She looked down at it and nodded.

Nyssa knew she didn’t have the answers. She only knew the last three years would have been a colossal struggle without him and that she genuinely felt she knew what true friendship was and what it was worth. What she wasn’t sure about was the intense connection with him she’d been feeling lately and the energy that buzzed through her body whenever they were alone like this. Jara was one of the finest looking boys of all the cadets. His many female admirers were a testament to that and Nyssa had always watched them in amusement. Those women had never really mattered to her, except he looked particularly beautiful right then in the dusk light and he was here, with her.

She looked up at him and her mind switched a track. She leaned slowly forward, emotion and fatigue playing jockey with her nerves. Jara didn’t move or turn away and instead met her in the middle. Nyssa wasn’t sure what she should do next. Their lips touched so lightly she was afraid she’d done it wrong. When they broke, she just wanted to lean on him to support her, but his face was still close and his breathing was warm; all she had to do was reach up and start it again.

Again Jara did not resist and this encouraged her. She let him take her face in both his hands and when the timing seemed right, he moved his tongue into her mouth. Nyssa was startled at first, but she didn’t dislike it and more feared making a fool of herself so said nothing and explored his mouth for herself. She warmed to it, moved into it and felt him move his body to get more from the angle. When they broke, she was breathing heavily. She felt a bit faint and her lips were slightly numb. Jara still had her face in his hands.

“Nyssa,” he whispered to her and her skin responded by raising goosebumps and sending shivers down her spine.

“Nyssa,” he said clearer and dropped his hands from her face. It was jarring and her eyes popped open. “We shouldn't,” he said trying to back up. Nyssa didn’t understand and this made more sense than anything.

She watched him stand up awkwardly and move to back away from her. Nyssa felt her heart constrict, her cheeks colour. She swallowed hard, horror descending on her from nowhere, but she froze her features and checked her response. She wasn’t going to show anything right now. She couldn’t.

“Thank you, Jara. For everything,” she said and stood to straighten her clothes. She folded her hands, demurely. “It’s okay,” she said and smiled at him. “We will see to what comes next; I have no doubt we’ll sort out our plans in time. Go,” she said and waved him off. The sunlight faded as it set and the lamplight of the lawn lamps outside sent their glow only enough to see their faces.

Jara nodded, looked at her again and then left.

Nyssa stayed where she stood, unable to sit or move. Her body was in full panic and she was desperate to believe her own words to him. But she couldn’t. The words were gilded expressions of apathy. Meaningless to her. His kiss, her tongue in his mouth; that was the first thing that sounded and felt real to her in all her living memory. She hadn’t planned on it; it came about when she asked what they were going to do next. Wasn’t it possible that this was something that could be next?

It was dark and cold. Her fire wasn't lit since she’d been away. Her cloak hung on the door and she crossed to get it. She swung it around herself and moved to sit on her bed, which was below the window, and her head hit the glass.

She thought about Jara. She saw him in her mind’s eye, always in her periphery, a small tight lift to the corner of his mouth like he was just waiting to see what she would do next, convinced it would be awesome. She had never had that kind of support before, even from her brother who said he loved her, told her she was smart, fast, strong, capable, but he never told her why he said these things. Maybe she never knew it mattered, but Jara explained things to her. He told her why he thought she excelled and deserved her victory. He also stood by her when she practised and she failed, which often meant more to her than the victories combined. He offered constructive criticism or supportive silence, depending on her mood. He had built a familiarity around her that she’d felt she’d lost with her family. He simply was around enough while she grew up and he was special to her because he never made fun of her when she stumbled or allowed her to wallow in her defeat or hide behind her crown when she felt unsuccessful. He had become her reliable other half, the prospect of which, she realized just then, scared the hell out of her.

She sighed and doodled on the glass with a finger and her breath making clouds. She felt she could forget about the kiss, but the prospect of losing Jara kept her from moving at all.

Nyssa found her way to breakfast the next morning and to the empty spot beside Jara like she did every morning. The other cadets closest to them greeted her warmly and Jara himself smiled and bumped her shoulder with familiarity. She smiled at him and her heart crumbled like the eggs on her plate, but the smile plastered on her face hid her real emotion.

Before their next sessions, Nyssa excused herself to speak with the admiral. She was leaving the main office wing when she’d made her decision. The Elite program was a post-graduate, knight-level module that afforded special training in assassination techniques, knighthood military arts and cavalry. Once completed, it came with a lifetime rank of knight, higher than any infantry officer. Known and revered around the world, Orak’Thune Elite were an order of sworn men and women noted for the black-blue burnished steel armour they wore, unique in the world. The Order of Elite insignia — the red enamelled emblem of the sword — was melded to their plate on their right bicep.

As was tradition for over a millennia, a citizen of Orak’Thune attended the academy from age fourteen to eighteen. Once graduated, they could choose to leave and return or begin a trade, stay and serve full time with the regular force army or move ahead and train further with the Elite. If they passed, they swore an oath to the country and its king to serve in its honour. For Nyssa, there was no question she would continue this path. At the very least, the training and the oath were required by her father, the overlord of the armies, if she were ever to serve at his side.

Nyssa skipped the rest of her sessions and returned to her room. As she expected, Jara found her there in less than an hour.

“Where have you been?” he said, entering her room without knocking, a little out of breath and obviously concerned. She turned from the window and shrugged.

“I was meeting with the admiral this morning. Brom has given his authorization that I join the Elite training final,” she told him bluntly and he stopped his advance from the door short.

“Oh?” he said surprised. This was definitely not what he had expected her to say. “You’re young still, Nyssa. What if you don’t pass?” he asked her carefully, but Nyssa only turned back toward the glass.

“Then I will try again, Jara,” she replied quietly. He could see the resolve; the complete decision was already taken.

“But you won’t fail,” he said then. Concern was already making him nervous, but it would do no good to let it show now.

She nodded and shrugged and that was that. She was pleased that she could offer him a ‘next up’ and felt relaxed that anything after that could wait because she knew he would find her waiting when he came to it, too.

Nyssa was nervous about the Elite. There was good reason the cadets were seniors and she wasn’t ignorant of that fact when she’d asked to go or when she fell down her first ravine two days after starting the exam. With no going back, Nyssa worked to complete each task independently. She refused Jara’s help every time, even when he was hiding it from their instructors. He found it hard to see her suffer, but she kept him at bay. She wouldn’t let him dress her wounds or take a rest when no one was looking. In the end, it had nothing to do with them as a team, friends or otherwise; she just wanted to accomplish this on her own and she wanted him to see she didn’t need him to do it.

For two months, they toiled in the thick forests, slept on the wet ground, ate what they could find and learned to become one with their surroundings. They were attacked daily by their instructors by surprise, misled to separate themselves from grouping together and required to infiltrate locations on maps she’d never seen before. Nyssa learned the cover of darkness, the precise spot to walk on her feet that made no sound and what she truly felt was her pain threshold.

And then one day, the instructors led them to an opening and there were twelve horses, one for each of them and it was simply over. They rode back to the academy filthy, exhausted and barely coherent.

Nyssa dragged her aching and severely bruised body up the three flights and slipped quietly into her room. Numb from cold and mental fatigue, she began to undress. Her boots, jerkin and long shirt went first and she was struggling with her laces on her leather breeches. She’d broken her baby finger, she was sure, some days ago but was too tired to get it looked after.

Jara burst into the room then and he stopped, wide-eyed and flustered. She looked at him questioningly and more than a little too tired to get into anything, but he crossed the room, grabbed her face and kissed her so hard she had trouble breathing. His enthusiasm pushed them against the far wall, which Nyssa thought was better because she felt she might fall otherwise.

“If I lose everything, I’ll stay with you, Nyssa. I swear it,” he said to her and engulfed her mouth again. It was a bigger confession than she ever expected.

“I will never allow you to lose everything. I swear it,” she replied.

He regarded her for a moment again and then returned to kissing her. His hands began to roam freely and grab here and there. Nyssa was excited that it was happening, elated even, and she hoped she could stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

Jara moved them back to lie down on her bed and again she was grateful for the relief to her poor body. Now free of holding her up, his hands roamed again while his mouth kept her busy. In a sudden tug, her chest was unbound and her breasts sprung loose. She stopped kissing long enough to be self-conscious again, but Jara took the opportunity to move his mouth to her nipple. Nyssa gasped with pleasure, unsure if it was the correct response or not but caring very little either way. She tried again to undo her laces and complained to him she needed help. He stopped completely and rested his forehead on her chest, not without visible restraint.

“In time, Nyssa, okay? You are still too young for that yet,” he said and she balked at his sudden change in desire, but again, she had no experience to go by. She just knew going hot and cold like this was very difficult to understand.

“Oh right, like you...” she started to say, but he cut her off.

“I am one and a half years older than you and I know you are still young for that yet. Trust me in this, please, Nyssa...” he said and went back to devouring her neck while his hand massaged and pinched her breasts and nipple.

She decided she’d had her victory for now and she would enjoy this. She fell asleep in his arms; whether it was intentional, she couldn’t tell him. But it was right where she knew they should be.

When she awoke, she was a bit cold and very much a battered body of bruises and sore muscles. Jara was just as beaten. She could see the discoloured marks on his arm where it draped over her, his hand gently cupping her right breast. Nyssa sighed, not in pain or fatigue but in absolute peace. He was warm on her back, smooth on her skin. He was older and wiser and she could trust him with her heart and her body and she was so happy she wanted to cry. She knew she could wait for him. She knew he would teach her in time, as he said, and for now, she had this: skin to skin, honesty and love.

She remembered her mother talking about finding love, how important she’d said it was. Nyssa had loved a story about a princess finding her knight. Though he was brave and strong, his love for his princess made him stronger and one day, it made him king. Her mother would read it to her over and over and made many references to her father when she embellished it, which had been Nyssa’s favourite part.

Kara had loved Madras and he her to distraction. She remembered her father’s face smoothing over whenever she entered the room, the peace and the serenity he saw in her. They had been openly affectionate, kissing at every greeting and every farewell. Her father had hugged her and Patrick a lot more then, too. He rarely even saw them or spoke to them directly now.

Nyssa dragged a finger along Jara’s forearm where it fell across her body. She watched the little bumps rise and the hairs stand on end. She breathed the scent of him, which was ripe considering they hadn’t even undressed fully from their ordeal, but it was distinct. She had never noticed it before, but it was him and she knew it. She leaned a bit and kissed his arm.

Jara’s hand moved, squeezing her a bit hard and she made a small noise but bit her lip to keep quiet. She carefully rolled over, trying not to wake him, but so she could see his face, his arm still draped over her torso.

He’d fallen asleep with his face in her hair and on the back of her neck. Now she faced him, and she could see he was serenely calm and peaceful; his brow was smooth and his mouth completely relaxed. Nyssa watched that mouth. Covered in a wild beard he’d not managed to control after two months in the field, it was in the way of that perfect mouth, but she smiled to accept it. He wouldn’t keep it for long.

She touched his smooth lips gently with her thumb, then moved a tiny bit to kiss it with a feather touch but couldn’t resist. She began to move back and forth delivering small pecks all along the strong line. When he started to stir, she held back and waited.

Jara’s other arm moved underneath her and pulled her strongly into his chest. He hooked a leg over her and said nothing. He kissed her forehead.

Nyssa, now a bit squished but happy, ran her mouth along his chest. He sighed and began moving his fingers over her back.

“You have the most beautiful skin, Nyssa,” he whispered to her and ducked his head to kiss her shoulder and into her neck.

“I was just thinking the same about you,” she replied. He continued his affections, making her giggle, but when he got to her neck, particularly under her hair at the back of her ear, Nyssa suddenly started breathing more heavily. He stopped in surprise because she had gripped his biceps noticeably hard in response. He was watching her face, his expression slightly amused and definitely interested.

“What was that?” he chided her. Nyssa opened her eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?” she asked and tried to pull herself out of his arms to sit up. Jara held on to her but let her go when she kept pulling. He didn’t mean to upset her, so he continued to touch her, but he only sat up enough to lean on one shoulder, his head propped in one hand.

“Sensitive spot, I gather?” he said and smiled.

Nyssa shrugged, completely at a loss as to what to say. She was trying to think about it and it was hard to explain. He’d kissed her neck and instantly her body had felt like it caught fire. She wasn’t sure how to control it or if she should or wanted to, but it hadn’t been intentional. Jara moved his hand to rub the same spot, and it had little to no similar effect. She realized then she was sitting up, bare-chested and she folded her arms a bit, trying uselessly to reclaim some of her privacy. Jara laughed at her.

“Don’t do that,” he said and pulled her arms down. “I’ve seen them, I’ve tasted them, and I will expect to see them very often from now on,” he said and pulled her forward again so she would lean over his body and he could rest back on the pillows. He closed his eyes and resumed running his fingers up and down her back, one arm folded up and behind his head.

Nyssa thought about that, slowly lowering to rest her head on his very smooth chest and listening to his heartbeat.

Jara was all man now. At nearly nineteen, he had very broad shoulders and long legs and he was taller than her by two inches. His jawline was strong and so deeply cut she could kiss the hollow at his neck all day long. She found his mouth ever wide and his nose was very straight, despite having taken hits to it once or twice over the years of his training. His large hands rubbed her skin and massaged; he was no child anymore and how had it taken a kiss for her to notice?

“What are you thinking about?” he asked after a while.

“How I would really like a shower, but I don’t want to move,” she said, deciding right then not to bring up all the ways Jara had grown up in the last several hours of their reunion. He laughed with her.

“Well, we have two days off, completely to ourselves. What should we do? Shower first,” he offered and looked down at her for ideas.

She sat up, heeding his words and not caring about her nudity. In response, he moved his hand to stroke and massage one lovely breast. It felt incredible, but she tried not to show it was distracting.

A loud banging on her door threw them into a panic.

“Princess Nyssa,” came a voice on the other side. “I have a message from the king,” the voice said and she stared at Jara in terror. Should an officer find him in her room, there would be hell to pay. He would take the brunt of it.

Nyssa jumped off Jara and pointed to her closet behind the door. It wasn’t big enough that he could fit into it, but the door would hide the rest. She threw on her shirt, still dirty and worn, and rechecked to ensure that Jara was hidden. She opened the door and hoped her fatigue was hiding her euphoria about the love of her life just vacating her bed.

“I am here,” Nyssa said, trying to sound groggy when she opened the door. The officer, a colonel who worked in Brom’s office, stood stiffly at the opening, obviously annoyed for having been sent on this dispatch. He roughly shoved a paper into her hands, saluted and left. Nyssa looked at the paper, leaned on the door and stuck her head back into the hallway to check he was gone. It was empty, so she shut the door again.

“A note from the king?” Jara asked and moved out of the cramped space to come toward her. She nodded, turned it over and checked the seal. It was from him directly. She popped it off with her nail, noticing her hands were filthy, and began to read the letter. Jara had come around and put both arms around her from behind, his nose and mouth moving around her hair.

“What does it say, Nyssa?” he asked impatiently. Nyssa had read the note and reread it.

“He wants to meet me in the stables. Today,” she said her voice empty.

Her father was there then, at the academy itself and no longer on the other side of the continent. She hadn’t seen him in over a year. It never used to bother her when he showed up or left, but now she always got butterflies. Would he be happy to see her? Happy with her academy grades? Mad at her for something stupid, like being so young? Mad in general and not really responsive to her presence at all? Seeing him made her nervous now.

“Does it say why?” he asked, his hips moving against hers, his arms snuggly tucked around her ribs. She shook her head. Not remembering or still curious, Jara moved his lips and kissed the back of her neck under her hair again. Nyssa responded on the second kiss, her head falling back onto his shoulder and he could see her eyes close. He kept kissing her, moving his hands to her breasts again and suddenly, her weight was full in his arms. She’d nearly collapsed on the floor. He stopped and her breathing started to slow too. Her legs took back her body, but he saw it himself; she was gone for a moment.

“Hm,” he said when he kissed her just under her ear before letting her go. Nyssa blinked her eyes open and turned to look at him, her expression a bit cross.

“I know what that is,” she said. He smiled, but she seemed less amused. “You don’t get to do that anymore, until you’re ready to back it up, Jara. Swear it,” she said and stuck out her unbroken pinkie finger. He stared at it. “Swear it!” she insisted and he took her finger in his quickly, but she pulled him up to her, surprising him again with her own strength. “Because if you do, I will rip your clothes off and take you for myself and you and your ‘two years older’ can go flip off someplace else.”