“Tell us, Johnis: what is going through your mind when you look at her?”

Johnis wasn’t sure he could or should tell them how he really felt. Wasn’t sure he knew fully himself, yet. It was on the morning after their escape, as they fled across the desert, that he’d seen the dramatic change in Karas, and his heart had begun to break.

“Tell us,” Rachelle repeated.

He glanced over at Michal and was surprised to see the Roush dip his head.

Johnis walked over to Karas and stepped behind her. He touched her silky hair and her pink cheek, and tears flooded his eyes. “What I feel?”

He clasped his hands behind his back and faced the Council. “I feel like Elyon must feel when he looks at me,” he said. “I feel like we should open our arms to those who wish to bathe in our lakes.”

Ciphus coughed. They all knew he frequently opposed the thought. The lakes were only so big, only so much water. They were chosen; the Horde was not.

“I feel like she is no different from my own sister, Kiella. And I swear to love her with every beat of my heart.”

“Are a hundred fighters’ deaths worth the life of this one?” Rachelle asked.

He knew he was on dangerous ground. “I would die a hundred times for Karas,” he said. “Now that I know . . .”

“Know what?” Thomas demanded.

“That she, too, is chosen.”

The Council broke into several exchanges, none of which had any meaning to Johnis.

Karas was looking up at him with round eyes, smiling wide enough to swallow the room. He knelt on one knee, took her hand, and kissed the backs of her fingers.

“You saved my life,” he said. “Now I owe you mine.”

Karas leaned forward and accepted his debt with a kiss on his forehead.

The Council had gone quiet.

“Still, it’s irresistible,” Rachelle said. “In any form love is truly the only healer. Even if you argue he’s misguided in some of his thinking, you cannot fault Johnis for his love. Who would dare put someone like this in a deep, dark prison?”

Thomas stood. “I agree. It would be wrong to level such an unusual crime with a usual punishment. Instead of lashings or imprisonment, I say the boy should be promoted to the rank of major.”

He silenced the mumbling with a raised hand.

“As a major he will report directly to me, and I will remove him from active duty until I see that he is fit to lead in a battle that requires more than his heart or mind.”

“But the Third Fighting Group!” someone protested.