I didn't sleep.
I sat by the window and watched the sky lighten from black to grey to pale gold, my mind replaying every moment with Maer. Every conversation. Every touch. Every choice that had led us here.
When dawn finally broke, I stood and walked to the room where they'd put him.
The physician had left fresh bandages and medicine on the side table. Maer was awake, propped against pillows, his broken arm in a sling. Someone had cleaned the blood from his face, but the bruises remained, dark purple and yellow across his jaw and temple.
He looked up when I entered. Something passed across his expression. Resignation, maybe. Or relief that I'd finally come.
"Ryn," he said.
I closed the door and crossed to the chair beside the bed. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
"How do you feel?" I asked finally.
"Like I was beaten and left for dead." He attempted a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The physician says I'll heal. A few weeks, maybe a month. I'll be good as new."
"Good."
"Physically, anyway." He shifted against the pillows, wincing. "The rest... that'll take longer."
I looked down at my hands. At the calluses and scars, the evidence of a life spent fighting. "What did they do to you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "They asked questions. About you, about the investigation, about what we knew. When I wouldn't answer, they got creative. Nothing permanent. Nothing they couldn't undo. But..." He closed his eyes. "It wasn't the pain, Ryn. It was the helplessness. Being trapped, knowing you were out there trying to stop an invasion, and I couldn't help. Couldn't warn you. Couldn't do anything but hope you'd finish what we started."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't." His eyes opened, sharp and clear. "Don't apologize. You made the right choice. You got the information to the Emperor. You're stopping the invasion. That's what mattered."
"It doesn't feel like the right choice."
"Because you're human. Because losing people hurts, even when it's necessary." He reached out with his good hand, fingers brushing mine. "But that's the thing, Ryn. It will always hurt. Every time you choose the mission over the person, every time you sacrifice someone for the greater good, it will tear pieces out of you. And eventually, there won't be anything left."
"I don't have a choice."
"You do. You've always had a choice. You just can't see it because you've convinced yourself that duty is the only thing that matters. That saving others is the only way to make up for surviving when your parents didn't."
The words landed like blows. I pulled my hand back.
"That's not fair."
"No, it's not. But it's true." He sat up straighter, pain flickering across his face but determination overriding it. "Ryn, listen to me. I've watched you for months now. Watched you push yourself past exhaustion, ignore every warning, refuse every offer of help or comfort. And I've tried to understand why. Why someone so remarkable would be so determined to destroy herself."
"I'm not—"
"You are. And the reason is guilt. You survived when your parents died. You survived when Harven died. You survived when I was captured. And every time, you tell yourself it's because you didn't do enough. Didn't fight hard enough. Didn't sacrifice enough." His voice cracked. "But it's not true. You're not responsible for every death. You're not required to give up everything to make up for living."
"Then what am I supposed to do? Just stop caring? Just let people die because it's easier?"
"No. You're supposed to care without destroying yourself. You're supposed to save people without sacrificing everything that makes you human. You're supposed to remember that you're worth saving too."
I stood, unable to sit still anymore. "That's easy to say when you're not the one making the choices."
"You're right. It is easy for me. Because I'm not the one carrying the weight of the realm on my shoulders. I'm not the one the Emperor will call on to fix this mess. I'm not the one who has to live with every decision." He paused. "That's why I'm leaving."
The words hung in the air between us.
"When?" I asked quietly.
"As soon as I can travel. A few days, maybe. The physician says I need rest, but I'll manage. I've survived worse." He looked at me, and his eyes were full of sorrow and love in equal measure. "I'm going back to the frontier. Back to the small villages and the border outposts where I can help people without watching them tear themselves apart for duty."
"You don't have to go."
"Yes, I do. Because if I stay, I'll keep trying to save you. And you don't want to be saved. Not by me, not by anyone. You want to burn yourself out for a cause, and I can't watch that happen."
"Maer—"
"Let me finish." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, moving carefully, and stood. He swayed slightly, and I moved to steady him, but he waved me off. "I need to say this. All of it."
He crossed to the window, looking out at the city below. The morning sun caught his profile, highlighting the bruises and the scar that ran from temple to jaw.
"When I met you," he said quietly, "I thought you were the most remarkable person I'd ever seen. Strong, dedicated, willing to fight for people who couldn't fight for themselves. And I fell in love with that. With your conviction, your courage, your refusal to give up even when everything was against you."
He turned to face me.
"But somewhere along the way, I realized that the thing I loved about you was also the thing that was killing you. Your dedication had become obsession. Your courage had become recklessness. And your refusal to give up had become an inability to stop." His voice softened. "I love you, Ryn. I will always love you. But I can't stay and watch you destroy yourself. It's breaking me too."
My throat tightened. "I don't know how to be different."
"I know. That's why I have to go." He walked back to me, slow and careful, and took my hands in his. "But I want you to know something. Before I leave, before this ends, I want you to know what you're refusing."
"Maer, I can't—"
"Just listen. Please."
I nodded, unable to speak.
"If you came with me," he said, his voice low and intense, "if you let go of the duty and the guilt and the endless fighting, here's what I'd give you. A cottage on the frontier, small but warm, with a garden where we could grow herbs and vegetables. Mornings where you wake up without wondering who needs saving. Evenings by the fire where the only thing we have to plan is what to cook for dinner."
He squeezed my hands gently.
"I'd give you a life where you're not Captain Halvar, the Warden, the woman who carries the realm on her shoulders. You'd just be Ryn. My Ryn. The woman who laughs at my bad jokes and falls asleep reading maps and looks at the stars like they hold answers she's searching for."
His thumb brushed across my knuckles.
"I'd give you time. Time to heal. Time to remember what it feels like to want something for yourself. Time to figure out who you are when you're not fighting." He paused. "And I'd give you love. Every day. Without conditions, without expectations. Just love. Because you exist, not because of what you can do for others."
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I didn't let them fall.
"We'd help people," he continued. "The frontier needs healers and scouts and people who know how to fight. But we'd do it together, without carrying the weight of empires. We'd save the lives in front of us and sleep knowing we did what we could. And that would be enough."
"Maer..."
"That's what I'm offering, Ryn. That's what you're refusing. Not just me. A life. A future. A chance to be more than just the woman who sacrifices everything."
He released my hands and stepped back.
"So I'm asking one last time. Come with me. When this is over, when you've stopped the invasion and finished your investigation, walk away. Let someone else carry the weight. Let yourself have something for yourself."
I looked at him. At the hope and sorrow in his eyes. At the future he was painting, so vivid I could almost see it.
A cottage. A garden. Mornings without duty. Evenings without guilt.
Him.
For a moment, I thought how how that could be my life.
But then I thought about the invasion. The thousands of lives depending on me getting this right. The conspiracy that went deeper than we'd imagined. The Emperor's offer that would give me the authority to actually fix things.
And I thought about who I was. Who I'd always been.
"I can't," I said, my voice breaking. "Maer, I can't. I want to. I want to so much. But I can't walk away. Not now. Maybe not ever."
"Why?"
"Because if I stop, people die. If I choose myself over the mission, the invasion happens. The conspiracy continues. The borderlands keep burning. And I can't live with that."
"Even if it means losing me?"
"Even then."
He closed his eyes, pain flickering across his face. When he opened them again, they were wet.
"I knew you'd say that. I knew before I asked. But I had to hear it. Had to give you the choice." He reached up and cupped my face, his touch gentle despite the sling on his other arm. "I love you, Ryn Halvar. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. And I wish, more than anything, that you loved yourself half as much as you love your duty."
I whispered. "I'm sorry, and I hate that I'm doing this."
"I know. But you're doing it anyway."
He leaned forward, slowly, giving me time to pull away. I didn't.
His lips set in my temple, soft and warm and devastating. Not desperate or demanding. Just... goodbye. He kissed me like he was memorizing the feeling, like he wanted to carry this moment with him wherever he went.
The love and the loss and the future we wouldn't have. I let myself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to say yes. To follow him to the frontier and build that cottage and wake up without duty hanging over me.
Then I pulled back, gently, and let him go.
"When do you leave?" I asked.
"Three days. Maybe four. As soon as I'm well enough to ride." He stepped back, creating distance we both needed. "I'll say goodbye to Joss before I go. And I'll leave you something. A letter, maybe. Something you can read when this is all over and you're wondering if you made the right choice."
"I already know I made the wrong one."
"Then why do it?"
"Because it's the only one I can live with."
He nodded slowly, understanding and heartbreak mixing in his expression. "Goodbye, Ryn."
"Goodbye, Maer."
He walked to the door, moving carefully, and paused with his hand on the handle.
"One more thing," he said without turning around. "When you're standing alone at the end of all this, when everyone who tried to love you is gone and all you have left is your duty, I want you to remember something."
"What?"
"You deserved more. You deserved a life. You deserved to be happy." He looked back at me, and his smile was sad and genuine. "And somewhere out there, in a cottage on the frontier, I'll be living the life we could've had.
He opened the door and left.
I stood in the empty room, the ghost of his kiss still on my forehead, and let the tears finally fall.
Not because I regretted the choice.
But because I wished, just once, I could be someone who chose differently.
Joss found me an hour later, still standing by the window.
"He told me," Joss said quietly. "That he's leaving."
"I know."
"Are you all right?"
"No. But I will be." I turned to face him. "I have to be. There's too much left to do."
Joss studied me, his expression unreadable. Then he crossed the room and pulled me into a hug. Not romantic. Not even particularly gentle. Just solid and steady and there.
"You're an idiot," he said into my hair. "You know that, right?"
"I know."
"He was good for you."
"I know."
"And you let him go anyway."
"I had to."
Joss pulled back and looked at me, his hands on my shoulders. "No, you didn't. You chose to. There's a difference." He sighed. "But I also know that if you'd chosen him, you'd never forgive yourself. You'd spend the rest of your life wondering if the invasion could've been stopped, if the conspiracy could've been exposed, if you could've saved people by staying."
"I would."
"So maybe you made the only choice you could make. Even if it was the wrong one." He released me and stepped back. "But Ryn, eventually you're going to run out of people willing to love you. And when that happens, all you'll have left is duty. And duty doesn't keep you warm at night."
"I know that too."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you keep choosing the same thing and expecting it to feel different."
I didn't have an answer for that.
Joss walked to the door and paused. "For what it's worth, I'm not going anywhere. I'm too stubborn to leave, and I've known you too long to expect you to change. But don't mistake loyalty for approval. I think you're making a terrible mistake. I just don't think there's anything I can say to stop you."
He left, and I was alone again.
I walked back to the window and looked out at Cerasis. At the thousands of people going about their lives, unaware that an invasion was coming, that a conspiracy had nearly destroyed them, that one woman in a palace room had just chosen their survival over her own happiness.
One day left until the invasion deadline.
One day to finalize evidence, coordinate with the Emperor's forces, make sure everything was in place.
One day until Maer left and I'd never see him again.
I pressed my hand against the glass and made a different promise this time.
Not to finish the mission.
But to remember what it cost.
To carry the weight of everyone I'd lost.
To never forget that duty had a price, and I was the one who paid it.
The tears had dried. The grief would stay.
But the work continued.
It always did.