Max shrugged and dropped his eyes. “Maybe she deserves some romance, too, Calderon. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to go out of your way to make her feel special. Not because she can fight, or because she’s practically a princepsa of her own people. But just because you want to show her. You want her to know how much you care.”

Tavi stared at Max for a moment and felt somewhat thunderstruck.

Max was right.

He and Kitai had been together for a very long time. They had shared everything with one another. Whenever she had been gone, it had left an enormous, restless hole somewhere inside him that adamantly refused to be filled. So many things had happened to them together—but he hadn’t ever really spoken to her about the depth of his feelings. She’d known, of course, just as he had been able to sense her devotion to him through the odd link the two of them shared.

But some things needed to be said before they could be truly real.

And some things couldn’t be said. They had to be done.

Bloody crows. He’d never asked her what the marriage customs of her people were. He’d never even thought to ask.

“Crows,” Tavi said, calmly. “I... Max, I think you have a point.”

Max spread his hands. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“All right,” Tavi said. “Then... I suppose that while I’m finding a way to get the rest of Alera to accept the Canim’s help, and figuring out how to defeat the vord, and coming up with enough support to actually be the First Lord, I’ll have to work an epic romance into the schedule.”

“That’s why you’re the Princeps, and I’m just a humble Tribune,” Max said.

“I... I don’t really know much about being romantic,” Tavi said.

“Neither do I,” Max said cheerfully. “But look at it this way. It won’t need to be much to improve on what’s gone before.”

Tavi made a growling sound and reached for his empty mug.

Max opened the door and saluted, banging his right fist against his armored chest, grinning openly at Tavi. “I’ll see to the incoming boats, Your Highness, and make sure everyone finds his way to your cabin.”

Tavi held on to the mug. It wouldn’t do to throw it at Max in plain view of everyone on deck. He put the mug down, gave Max a look that promised eventual repayment, and said, “Thank you, Tribune. Shut the door on your way out, please.”