Snow crunched beneath Kira's boots as she sprinted through the twisting alleys of Polaris. The frozen city pulsed with distant alarm bells, torchlight flickering in every direction. Behind her, the soft thud of guards in pursuit echoed off the narrow stone walls. She could hear their guttural commands in Trigedasleng—orders to capture, not kill. That was a mistake.
She ducked around a corner, slid into the shadow of a crumbling wall, and waited. Two guards ran past, oblivious to her presence. She could smell the smoke from their torches, could hear the weight of their armor grinding against itself.
Only once the sound faded did she exhale.
"You're slipping, Kira," she muttered under her breath. "Old you would've had them disarmed in ten seconds."
She glanced down at the stolen satchel now slung over her shoulder. Inside were the scrolls she'd risked her life for—maps of Azgeda fortifications, troop movements, and more damningly, an intercepted letter addressed to Queen Nia.
From someone inside Tondc.
She didn't let the weight of that betrayal sink in. There would be time for that later.
For now, she moved like smoke, weaving between the alleys, climbing to the rooftops when the paths below grew too congested. By the time she reached the outer wall, Polaris was ablaze with panic. The Queen's soldiers scoured every corner.
But they hadn't sealed the tunnels beneath the cliff.
Kira dropped through a frozen grate behind a smithy and followed the narrow, winding tunnel she'd memorized two nights prior. The ice-coated stone walls narrowed until she had to crouch, but the air grew warmer the deeper she went—until finally, she emerged into the forest under the shroud of night.
The air outside was biting, but she smiled as she stepped out from the cliff face. She'd made it.
Now came the hard part.
Two days later, Kira returned to Tondc under the cover of rain and exhaustion.
The moment she stepped into camp, Indra was already waiting.
"Lexa's in the war room," she said without preamble. "She knows you've returned."
Kira offered a tired grin. "You didn't send a welcoming party?"
Indra gave her a look. "You smell like blood and frostbite. I'd rather not get that close."
They walked together in silence. Kira noticed how tense the camp had become—how the warriors moved with tighter formation, how the sentries' eyes lingered longer than usual. Something had shifted in her absence.
Inside the war tent, Lexa stood over a table littered with ink-stained maps and open scrolls. Her brow furrowed in thought, she didn't look up until Indra cleared her throat.
Lexa's eyes met Kira's—and for the briefest second, softened.
"You're late."
Kira stepped forward and dropped the satchel onto the table with a loud thud. "I brought souvenirs."
Lexa's gaze dropped to the satchel. She opened it cautiously, pulling out each item in turn. Her eyes scanned the troop routes, then narrowed at the intercepted message.
"You found this in Polaris?"
Kira nodded. "The Queen has a leak in our ranks. Someone feeding her strategy notes. The writing matches that of a scribe… someone close to the council."
Lexa's jaw clenched. "Did Roan know?"
"I don't think so. He tried to warn me—indirectly. There's more tension in Polaris than we thought. He's trying to keep the peace, but Nia's pushing hard."
Lexa ran a hand through her hair and turned toward the wall of the tent. "She wants war."
"She wants you weakened before she makes her move," Kira corrected.
Lexa turned to her again. "And you?"
Kira tilted her head. "What about me?"
Lexa walked closer. Her voice dropped lower, softer. "What do you want?"
For a moment, the world stilled around them. Kira studied her—tired but composed, burdened by duty but never crushed by it. Lexa stood as she always did: proud and poised. Yet now, there was a crack in the armor, one only Kira seemed allowed to see.
"I want to help you win," Kira said quietly. "But not at the cost of yourself."
Lexa stared at her. "You speak like someone who's seen me fall."
Kira smiled, the expression faint but filled with weight. "In a way."
Lexa's brow furrowed. "You know things you've never said. Things about me. About what's to come."
"I don't know everything," Kira replied. "But I know enough."
Lexa's lips parted, questions on the edge of spilling out—but instead, she nodded. "Then we use what you know. You, Indra, and I—no one else."
"Agreed."
Their eyes lingered, the air growing thick with something unspoken.
And then Lexa turned away, reclaiming her mask of leadership.
"I'll call a meeting tonight. We plan accordingly."
Kira hesitated, then nodded. "Understood."
Later that night, Kira found herself standing outside Lexa's quarters beneath the stormy dusk sky. The camp was settling in, fires glowing like scattered embers in the fog.
She wasn't sure why she'd come here.
Well, that was a lie. She knew exactly why. But saying it out loud—thinking it too clearly—felt like daring fate.
The flap of the tent moved before she could decide.
"Kira." Lexa's voice was quiet, surprised.
"Sorry," Kira said, scratching the back of her neck. "I was… walking. Didn't realize where my feet were going."
Lexa tilted her head. "They always know."
A silence stretched between them. Kira rubbed her palms together for warmth.
Lexa stepped aside. "Come in."
The tent was warm. A brazier glowed near the center, casting soft light over a table, some scrolls, and two small cups of steaming tea. Lexa gestured toward one.
Kira accepted it, hands cradling the warmth. "So this is where you hide when you're not conquering."
Lexa allowed a soft smile. "Hardly hiding."
They sat in silence for a while. The rain pattered gently on the canvas above.
Kira looked over at her. "Did you ever wonder if it could have been different?"
Lexa didn't have to ask what she meant.
"Yes. But I stopped letting myself linger in that question."
Kira took a sip. "I linger a lot."
"You're not from here," Lexa said after a moment. "You don't speak like someone born into war."
"I wasn't," Kira admitted. "I grew up in a world with its own horrors. But we didn't live like this. Not in constant fear."
Lexa's gaze was unreadable. "Yet you fight better than most who've bled for years."
"Let's just say… I've had a long time to prepare."
Lexa stood, moved to the table, and picked up a worn cloth. She turned it over in her fingers.
"You confuse me," she admitted. "You say little, but every word matters. You move like a soldier, but think like a strategist. And when you look at me… you see something."
Kira met her eyes. "I see everything."
The words lingered between them. Lexa stepped forward slowly, deliberately.
"You care for me."
Kira nodded once. "I do."
Lexa exhaled. "And yet you've held back."
"I promised myself I'd wait until it was real—not duty, not fear, not survival. Just... real."
Lexa's voice dropped to a whisper. "And is it now?"
Kira stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from Lexa's cheek. "I think it's getting there."
They stood like that for a moment, neither pushing nor retreating.
Then, just as quietly, Lexa stepped back. "Then let it be slow. But let it be."
Kira smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
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