When Sun returned home from work a couple of days after the Intrieri's departure, she was still feeling the loss of it. The sleepover with Emily had been fun; having a girl to talk to like that was a novelty. There was Mika, of course, but it was different with her; Mika was deadly and cool, calm, and collected all the time, even when she'd been pretending to just be a maid.
Emily was excitable and enthusiastic, and it was easy to get swept up with her.
The dynamic between the siblings was so different from her own as well; they were close, clearly they cared about each other, and Nathaniel tried to be a gentle guiding influence. Sometimes they ribbed each other, all in fun.
If she could foster that kind of relationship with her own brother, would it evaporate the infatuation she had? Did she still even want to? If she really considered it, she might have been at a point where she had accepted it. Knew she could never act on it but didn't mind holding onto this flame anymore.
It was a relief to get home, though; the atmosphere in the Eighth was still quite subdued. Most had returned to work, but they were quiet and solemn. Sun tried to do more to lift the load of those around her, taking more of the reports and spending less time training. Cage had noticed and let her know it was appreciated.
She wasn't looking forward to having to go straight to Kalys's study and spend more time on paperwork. Though her own personal project was filling out by the day. Once Emily was back in Solaryse, they would actually be able to start some of the practical side of it.
Sun entered her brother's study, freezing on the spot when she saw who was sitting at the desk.
Kalys looked up from what he was working on, a very small smile quirking the corners of his mouth.
"I'm back," he said, his tone that soft, gentle one that always sent shivers down her spine.
She grinned back. "Welcome home."
Finding her feet again, she sat down opposite him, leaning forward and staring at him. He wasn't in his uniform, having changed into a nice shirt and pants. There were no visible injuries, but he did look weary.
"You're well?" She asked.
"No injuries," he assured her.
"You look tired," she said, unsure if it was something he would be all right with her commenting on. "I can do this; you can go rest."
From what she could see, it was Clan Head duties; she had a pretty good grasp of most of the paperwork by now.
"It's fine, but I wouldn't say no to assistance."
"Let me get out of my uniform, and I'm all yours," she said, hopping up out of the chair and leaving the office.
Kalys paused in his writing, all the ways in which he would like to make her his coming unbidden at her words. When she had entered his office, he hadn't expected the desire to hit him like a freight train at her smile. It had been... radiant, as if she were genuinely gladdened by his return.
He let out a long, slow breath, refocusing his thoughts. It was a good thing his grandfather had gone into town; he was adept at reading Kalys like no other. Though he feared it was only a matter of time before he picked up on Kalys's feelings for his sister. Especially as they only seemed to be growing. Their letter writing had fanned the flames into something he'd never felt for another woman before.
He'd met countless women in his lifetime, some he had even been attracted to, but not like this. Not this all-consuming, frayed-the-edges-of-his-restraint desire. Perhaps because it wasn't purely physical, as had been most of his experience. He liked having her in his presence, and there were so few people he could say that about. He looked forward to seeing her, which was again something he had so few of. He could count them on one hand.
His relationship with her had started out as obligation and duty but had gone well beyond it.
When she returned, she had changed into a light, simple dress, her legs and arms bare; even her feet were bare with the warmer weather. It must have been one of her old dresses; it wasn't something he'd chosen for her wardrobe.
She folded herself into the chair opposite him, her legs crossed as she leaned forward, taking some of his work to her side of the desk.
Her eyes met his, questioning. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He offered a small smile, just pleased to have her here.
"Where's Grandfather?"
"He had errands to run in town."
She absently nodded, getting into it. They worked in silence for the most part, though she let out the occasional subconscious hum when she would get stuck or found something perplexing. The gentle, comforting rhythm of her presence made the task at hand far less gruelling.
He had already skimmed through much of what she and their grandfather had worked on to get up to speed, and they had managed well. He hadn't doubted his grandfather. But according to him, Sun had done well in picking things up quickly.
When they were summoned to dinner, Sun stood first, stretching her back and shoulders. Given the position she had sat in the entire time, he wasn't surprised she was sore.
"Do you sit like that at work?" He asked.
"Sometimes. Why?" She asked.
"You're going to destroy your back before you're thirty," he warned.
She shrugged. "It's not in the best shape to begin with."
"Don't be so flippant with your health," he said, holding the study door for her.
If he were capable of sounding exasperated, that would have been it.
When they reached the dining room, Jinn was already there, smiling up at them as they entered.
"Hello, Grandfather," she greeted, dropping into the seat beside him.
Kalys gave him a nod in greeting, and the staff brought out the food. Sun listened quietly as Kalys and Jinn spoke of his mission, how it ended, and the challenges they had faced. She wondered if he was making it sound less dangerous than it had been, given that they'd had deaths on their side. Every now and then he would cast a glance her way, and she got the feeling he was choosing his words very carefully. Did he not want her to worry? Or maybe he felt it wasn't appropriate conversation to be having in front of her?
They asked her how her day was, but she really didn't have much to tell. It was mostly paperwork. Though she'd never admit it out loud, she was starting to wonder if she had chosen the wrong division. Her day-to-day was quite boring. Zen was loving his placement, and things were even starting to pick up for Nick. He was due to head out on a mission in a few days with his lieutenant and a contingent of Revenants; they'd be heading out west to support a group of Revenants from the First who were escorting the king and his entourage to the neighbouring kingdom of Mesmijan. He was actually going to leave the country and see another!
She knew she had to put in her dues before she could be sent away on a mission, but it was so boring waiting for it.
Travelling had never really been something she had thought about until recently, when she'd been forced to move to the Illusen estate and had wanted to get away. Although she didn't want to get away for the same reasons, she did want to see more of the world. Having been confined to the academy for so many years and then gaining her freedom could have had something to do with the sudden burst of wanderlust as well.
In her spare time, and mostly with the boys, she had explored a fair bit of Kolver. She was ready to see more. Preferably not in Solaryse. And while on her mission with Commander Mercer and the others, exploration hadn't been a priority. The objective of their mission had also put a damper on any enjoyment she might have found.
But in the Eighth, she was less likely to have specific missions like that; it would be more about maintaining a presence and keeping an eye on things. Which would give her plenty of time to explore whatever area she would be assigned to.
Once dinner was over, Jinn returned to his room; he liked to take time for himself after dinner, though sometimes he would invite her to tea on his verandah while they watched the glowflies dance in the garden. Those were lovely peaceful evenings.
"Come with me, Sun," Kalys said as he got up from the table.
"I don't think we should read the journal tonight; you should rest," Sun told him.
"We're not. And I will. Come, walk with me."
She fell into step beside him; he was walking at a leisurely pace, so wherever he was taking her, it wasn't urgent. When they got out to the garden, she realised he actually meant to take a walk with her. She walked beside him peacefully, a little hesitant to shatter the comfortable silence.
"Your letters, Sun," he said. "Thank you for those."
She was surprised he would bring them up. "I'm glad you wrote back. I wasn't sure if you would be able to."
"Even death couldn't stop me." He offered a small smile, still the biggest she'd ever seen on him. "I'd find you, even through the Traverse."
"Promise?"
"On my honour."
If anyone could, it would be him. When he stopped walking and held up his pinky finger, she looped hers with his, holding tightly. She looked from their hands to his eyes, her breath hitching at the intensity in his. Her heart started pounding in her chest, and she could hear it in her ears. She could feel her cheeks flushing and knew she must look like an idiot. Hopefully that was all he saw and not someone who longed for her brother in ways she really should not. But for all the mental admonishments, she was frozen. Captivated.
With her hand still linked to his, he raised it to his lips and gently brushed them against the back of her fingers. Then he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and continued walking.
Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and she walked alongside him in a bit of a daze as she became mired in her thoughts. What had that meant, if anything? It was quite close to the same kind of greetings she'd seen in the capital, but she had never seen him greet anyone that way. And they had been beyond greetings by that point in their conversation. Was that how he sealed a vow? Couldn't be; he'd made a promise to her before, and it hadn't ended like that.
She cast a sidelong glance up at his face; it was as implacable as ever. He appeared completely unaffected; maybe she was just looking for something she wanted to see.
His other hand rested on top of hers as they walked; it was rough; she could feel the callouses from his years of sword practice. They didn't talk at all, at least not until they reached her section of the garden. As she had intended, it was basically growing wild. Her morning glories were growing up the wall, though, and the swing under the willow that Zen and Nick had helped her put up was still there.
"I'll have the gardeners tend to your section; it appears they've been neglecting it," he said.
"I asked them to," she told him. "I like it like this. Look at all the flowers in the grass."
"Those are weeds."
"By your standards maybe," she muttered.
He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Have it your way."
"Do you want to play on the swing?" She asked with a grin.
"I do not."
She didn't think he would, but the image of it did amuse her. They continued their walk in silence, and it didn't escape her notice they avoided her grandfather's section of the garden. He turned them around and walked them back to her room.
"Tomorrow morning we'll resume our training," he told her.
She nodded. Though she wasn't keen on the physical activity so early in the morning, she was looking forward to getting back to it if only because she liked being around him. Even if he was kicking her arse. He never made her feel useless about it, though; he corrected her, discussed what she could have done instead, taught her, and demonstrated different techniques for her, and he did it all with a patience she never would have believed he had when she'd first met him.
He was better than some of the instructors they'd had.
At her door, he bid her goodnight, giving her that barely-there smile of his that honestly made her a little weak in the knees.
"Good night," she whispered back, closing the door as he turned away.
In the privacy of her room she couldn't stop grinning. No matter how many times she told herself not to read too much into it, she couldn't stop the joy that came from it. She was setting herself up for disappointment and was powerless to stop herself.