Oran strode into the room. She knew he shook his head, though she still avoided looking at him. “Not out there.”

She nodded, and though she’d come here with a severe desire for solitude, she didn’t ask him to leave. After a moment, he moved farther into the room, kneeling before her.

“Whatever you need, I am here.”

Again, she nodded. Of everyone, he alone had been in this position before. If not exactly, then close to it. “I don’t need anything right now. Just . . . to breathe.”

A sad smile tilted his lips. Boldly, he slid a hand inside her blanket and found her hand, pulling her fingers between his own. She let her fingers twine with his, gasping a little when he lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles.

“No one knows what this is like until they do it,” he said. “And even if it’s different for everyone, it’s also a little bit the same. Tell me what you need, Caledonia, and I will do it.”

His promise was like a strong ocean wind, bolstering and swift and everything she needed. She slipped down from the bench, letting him catch her in his lap, and then their lips were together. His arms circled her waist, tucking her against his chest as her tongue parted his lips. His mouth was warm and giving, letting her guide the kiss.

She pulled away, resting her forehead to his, sharing his breath and running her thumbs over his bottom lip. If she could, she would stay here forever, in the protective circle of his arms, where they were warm and no one would live or die on her decisions.

But it was a dream, and if she dwelled on it too long, it would become dangerous.

She sat back so she could see his face again, and so that he could see hers. If she was going to become a monster, she would make sure someone saw it happening.

“I didn’t see it coming,” she admitted. “Battle makes sense to me. I can feel it changing and growing and folding back on itself. I know how to anticipate its movements. But I never expected Lir to kill Aric.”

“It didn’t surprise me. Lir has always wanted Aric’s power. He was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to take it.” Oran winced softly. “There was a time when I might have done the same.”

She knew what she needed from him. It was a terrible thing to ask, but if she was going to lead her people into a war with Lir, then she needed someone who could think like him, someone who could anticipate what she could not.

“Oran, I need you to be the Steelhand again,” she said, tears warming her eyes. His mouth opened in protest, but before he could speak, she added, “Not like you were before. Not an instrument of torture, but something else: my Steelhand.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS