I turned to him fully, watching the tightness in his jaw, the way his fingers curled at his sides like he was still fighting something. Not enemies. Not nobles. But something inside himself.
"I didn't ask you to do that," I said, softer now.
He met my gaze. "I know. But someone had to. They forget too quickly, Athena. They don't even know what it cost you."
My breath hitched. "I don't need them to know. I need them to trust me."
"They won't," he said. "Not all of them. Not until you make them."
There was a pause — heavy, intimate, electric. The air between us thrummed with warmth. There was no magic. Not war. Just the ache of two people carrying too much.
I stepped closer, just enough that I could hear his breathing shift. "Why do you keep standing beside me, Kieran?"
