Duty and Deceit

Chapter 24

Kaia

They threaded through the undisturbed snow, the rhythmic crunching of ice beneath their shoes breaking every so often when Kaia stumbled. She might have as well been inebriated with how frivolous her steps were, a silly smile on her face. Roxas didn't seem to mind it at all, plastered to her side, his body so hot against hers, steadying her with a hand on her waist. She found that she liked his hands on her.

Roxas never had a distinct scent, no fragranced oils or soaps in his room that she could find, as though he truly didn't want to leave any trace of him behind.

But now that she was wrapped in the cloak he'd been wearing all day, his body so close to hers, she smelt him. A musky muted scent he couldn't get rid of, the hints of saffron she'd gotten so used to in his childhood room, she almost didn't pick it up.

She never wanted to breathe out ever again.

Roxas looked silly too, with his hair windswept and in his eyes. Most of his face paint was smudged away, leaving behind a faint orange streak across his temples to cheekbones. He somehow made it look attractive, especially with the orange cloak she'd made him buy. He had a careless smile on his lips, and for once he didn't look like an intimidating man who'd stalked her, who worked for the emperor, but rather like the boy she'd seen in the family portraits. Untroubled and happy.

Her heart swelled.

She never wanted this night to be over.

Tomorrow, he would go back to being a spy. With his back almost healed, nothing she'd say would stop him from leaving. And soon she would have to leave too. She couldn't stay with him forever, not if she wanted to complete her training and be a soldier. She'd most likely never meet him again.

She stopped walking.

She was going to be a soldier. He said she wouldn't be fighting in the war but nothing was set in stone. An assassination attempt at the emperor when she was on duty, a well-aimed arrow to her chest would be all it'd take for her to die.

And him? What were the chances that he'd come back alive every time? Hell, they'd nearly died a few weeks back, there was no saying they'd survive another week.

"Kaia?" He called, turning back to her, his cloak hanging off one shoulder.

She looked at him. Really looked. At the man who'd given her more than half of his food when she'd forced herself into his life on the ship, seeing the man who'd tolerated her whims when even Kairos couldn't, the man who'd held her like she was dying when his back had been burning off. He'd stayed with her today, despite how much the festival reminded him of his family, the painful memories it brought him.

And tomorrow, when he'd leave in the face of another man, he wouldn't know someone cared about him the way she did. Not Ilm, Roxas or whatever name he'd choose to wear that day. Just him.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't walk away without letting him know.

"Are you feeling alright?" Roxas stepped closer, brows lowered in concern.

She didn't think when she raised her head to meet his gaze, her hands lifted to his face, palms cupping his cheeks. The last thing she saw was the widening of his eyes before she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

He went still.

His hands instinctively went to her waist, crushing the sides of her robes.

Her lips brushed against his, gently, familiarising herself with the shape of them, the taste of him. She let out a shivering breath, heart pounding in her chest. His lips were soft, warm against her own as she poured everything she felt into her kiss, her lips trembling, hoping he understood.