Because Rhys was such a predictable person, Iree knew exactly which pew he would be sitting in during the duration of Zeal’s Web in the chapel. He liked to sit in the right corner of the back right pew, as this made his back feel less vulnerable. The month had ended with her plan approved by the council. Now, on the first day of a new month, a new start, the festivities marked the eve of a final revolution. Before exterminating the rats, though, came Rhys.

“It’s only when it’s this crowded that you realize how big the place actually is, right?” she said by way of greeting as she sat and crossed her arms. Most of the pews had been moved to some undisclosed location to make room for the couples and groups milling about, so the room seemed to have at least tripled in size.

He glanced at her. “Yeah.”

“You look creepy being here alone, you know. Unless you’re expecting someone?”

“I sit here because I want to. That the day is special to other people doesn’t really mean anything to me.”

“That’s the statement of a sad, lonely person.”

He smiled in the way he had where it was almost a smirk but not quite since he always held back, and she almost felt like it was old times again. “Sounds like you’re projecting yourself onto me.”

“Please. At least I can manage a proper lovelife.”

“Hm.”

She waited for him to say more, but he just continued to watch the people who had gathered. There were elderly pairs and those far too young to know the hardships that love might bring them someday, all placing red roses on lapels, in pockets and in hair to bind them together and represent their taken status. They prayed, danced, and sat silently, enjoying the peace of the day.

“There was a proposal earlier,” Rhys said after several minutes. “She rejected him. It was awkward for everyone.”

“Ouch.”

“Didn’t Dale propose to you here?”

“He gave me the ring here. The proposal was in my office.”

“He was probably too impatient to wait for the most romantic occasion to do it.”

Iree laughed. “Probably.”

“Even though I don’t try to, I always remember him when I come here. I don’t even know why anymore.”

“Same thing happens to me everywhere I go,” Iree said softly.

Rhys gave her a sympathetic look. “Things never end up the way we want them to, seems like.”

“Yeah.” The future she’d held so dearly had shattered with infuriating ease. “We had a plan.” Iree lowered her voice to a whisper. “Three kids, maybe one less, no more. A small painting business inherited from his parents, a cozy house. Cats, at least two, and a small dog. He said that having pets to take care of would teach us how to be gentle again. We’d have a veggie garden and teach our kids to always eat healthy and read before bed.” She cleared her throat when she started to get choked up. “That was the life Dale and I planned to make after the war.”

He looked at her properly now. “Iree, I–”

“I know how it looks, you know. What it makes people think for me to be sleeping with other people less than a year after my fiancé’s death. Shit, I mean, Dale’s parents will never forgive me. They’ll be mourning for the rest of their lives, and I think part of them expected me to do the same.” She wondered too sometimes if it made her despicable. The day he’d died had bled into the night she had first slept with Rhys. Thinking back to the moment, she couldn’t condemn herself.

She had kissed him with ravenous desperation, pulled him in. If grief could be transmitted, if she could force him to drink down the emotions that threatened to swallow her, then that’s what needed to happen. He’d let out sounds of distress, had struggled and writhed against her constricting grip, asked her to stop, but his arms had come around her in the end. And she’d started to fall in love with him when, the next morning, his respect for her and his friendship hadn’t dwindled or changed. He was her Rhys. That’s what he was supposed to be.

Now, again, he said words to reassure her. He always found a way. “Deep down, they have to know you couldn’t afford to do that. Sacer needs you. You’re a great commander.”

She took the chance to get to the core of why she had come here in the first place. “If I’m so great, why don’t you see fit to follow me anymore? Seriously, Rhys. What happened?”

He looked straight ahead. “I changed. The conviction you and Dale gave me back then to move forward… The time came when it revealed itself as something that was never mine in the first place.”

“Sorry, but that’s bullshit. You’re the one who attached yourself to us.”

“I’m not saying this is your fault, Iree. It’s all me and my head getting messed up.”

“I still want you to be there at the end, Rhys. The vow we all made… Don’t you still find any worth in that?”

“I don’t know. Either way, I don’t have the will to fight for it anymore.”

“Why the fuck not?! Seriously!”

He held up a hand to encourage her to keep her voice down. “Iree. You know why. Nothing will ever change. We’re trying to work under an illusion of something. The potential for us to do anything about your status or anyone else’s, you thinking you love me, none of it was real. It was just reactionary to things we’re powerless against.”

“See, that’s where I’ve got to stop you. You didn’t think it was real, I get it. You think that the only reason I said it was that I didn’t want to lose anyone else, and I held tighter when I felt you slipping away. I did hold tight, but I feel sincerely in all I do. You should have understood that.”

He shook his head and said nothing.

How to get him back to himself? What were the right words? “Rhys, whatever I can do or say to make you happy, I’ll do it. Because we’re friends. It’s been rough, I know, but friends go through those times. We can come out clean if you’re willing to just talk to me. So tell me anything, okay?”

“You’re still my best friend,” he said quietly. “But can I trust you despite everything that’s been happening recently? Do you really expect me to, Iree?”

He needed just a little more pushing, she could tell, so she’d lie a bit and coddle him. “Rhys, I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve been scared, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I’ll be better for you, but I need you to let me in.”

He met her eyes, looking almost like a scared child. She could see it clearly, though, a faint but definite glint of trust. There was hope for them after all, and she was steeled for anything he might say.

He stated, “Sometimes, I want to die so badly I can’t even breathe, Iree.”

She laughed, caught off guard in a way she’d never been before. Whatever he’d been about to say, she’d thought she was ready, but… Not this.

His face didn’t change, but she felt something sever permanently in his simple act of turning to face forward once again.

Finding her hands to be shaking, she scrambled. “Rhys, no, no, I didn’t mean to—”

“They look good together, right? Cerid and Dorothea,” he commented, gesturing to the front of the room.

“What?” There they were, caught in a ray of sunlight and presenting one another with a rose. Somewhat clumsy, he tucked a full spiral behind her ear while, smiling in the graceful way she did when she was putting on an air of formality, she did the same for him. The way she brushed his hair to the side was almost tender; if Iree didn’t know both of them much better than this, she might have been fooled into thinking there was something between them. “Yeah, whatever. Rhys, please listen to me. You can’t think like that. You have to stay strong.”

The words she thought of as encouragement only seemed to make him drift farther away. “They tell us to always be strong,” he murmured, “but they don’t prepare us for the times when our strength inevitably fails us.”

“Rhys, you have to live. I can’t lose you.”

He was still watching Cerid and Dorothea, the latter in particular. “I love her, but I… There are times when I’m out of will. In those moments, I don’t have the strength to live or to die, but the day might come when I slip in the wrong direction. I can’t always rely on her to bring me back up. That’s not fair, that weight.” It was clear he was mostly talking to himself now. “Won’t I just be a burden on her in the end? She said we could be strong for one another, but I don’t know if I can be strong for either of us.” He hunched over, putting his face in his hands. “I’m useless.”

“Dammit, Rhys, snap out of it!”

He cut her a sidelong glance, eye glittering yet shadowy between his fingers. “I know what you did to Sirpo. You and Ariana.”

A cold wave washed over Iree, making her ears ring. “Ah.” But how?

He sat up, flashing her a faint smile made eerie by the emptiness in his tired eyes. “Or I do now.”

She’d let him see her panic at the accusation. He’d played her! “You fucker…!” It took most of her willpower to keep her voice down and not to punch his lights out. “So what are you gonna do? Blab to Atlin?” This was all her fault. Rhys hadn’t been like this until she’d come along.

“That depends on you.”

Threats, huh? Bring it on. “What do you want?”

“The only reason I haven’t told anyone, namely Dorothea and Shark, is because I thought you deserved the benefit of the doubt as my friend. I want to hear it from you. Your reasons, and what you’re going to do next.”

“And if you don’t like what I have to say?”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” He paused. “I’m trying not to give up or turn my back on you, Iree.”

But he was already doing both of those things! He’d changed so much for the worse all because some outsider bitch had come along and done something to his head. How could Iree turn him back into the person he’d been before? Maybe she could save him, but the only way she could think of was to treat him like a soldier: break him down and build him back up. He already seemed close to shattering completely, but they would need more. He needed to be pliable. He needed to be nothing.

She faked a grateful smile, lulling him into a false sense of security. “Maybe a public area on a festival day isn’t the best place to talk about this? There’s a lot I want to tell you. I’m sorry for not being more honest before.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Come on. Fort wall’s probably the most secluded place.”

She would tear him apart so thoroughly that he would never think of defiance or despair again. Only war, their goals, and their friendship. That was all he had needed before, and it was all she needed him to be. One way or another, she would regain the Rhys Tamlin she had known.