Slipping my arms into my brown jacket, I step out of the officer's quarters for the last time. The dirt streets are quiet and the lanterns illuminating them glow in the predawn darkness. I take a deep breath and revel in the crisp air laced with fresh grass and lingering campfire. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I stroll toward the stables and admire the rustic buildings. It only took weeks for this place and its soldiers to stake a claim on my heart. I never imagined saying goodbye would be this hard.

I chuckle, the sound echoing off the building sides.

The girl who arrived here was naïve. I thought I was going to waltz in and lead Greer, Ulric, and Terro on a covert mission to save my father. Instead, they taught me patience, strategy, and how to hold my own. The Cyffred who rode in on her father's horse sees the world differently. She's a new person—a better person.

Leif and Wel work with a small group of soldiers, rushing around the stables to pack the carriage and prepare the horses. Despite the early hour, everyone appears in a good mood, cracking jokes and helping one another with their tasks. Their comradery is what I will miss most of all.

Greer glances at me and her conversation with Terro comes to a halt. "Why are you still in your uniform? I had the clothes your arrived in washed and delivered to you last night."

I examine my worn leather pants, simple tunic, and beat-up boots. "It just doesn't feel right to return home in the same condition I arrived."

She places her hand on my shoulder and pulls me into her arms. "The uniform suits you, Your Grace."

"Greer," I moan my disapproval against her muscular shoulder, but she only holds me tighter.

Despite our rocky start, Greer mentored me in a way unlike any other. She showed me what it takes for a young woman to lead with authority and to never back down. I'm proud of the person she has taught me to be, and so many of her lessons will serve me well in the future.

A throat clears from behind me, and Kyron asks, "Can I get in on the hug?"

"No," Greer and I say at the same time.

She releases her death-squeeze on me, and I turn to find the general looking exceptionally...dapper? He has abandoned his black leather jacket for a long olive coat with golden embellishments and a chest of pins representing his superior rank. His crisp white tunic, black pants, and riding boots look hardly worn, and he has combed his dark hair back, placing his sharp features on display. He looks handsome, regal, different.

I move closer, studying his face. The angles of his jaw and nose are the same, but something about him is softer. I suck in a breath when our eyes meet; his are no longer black, but the golden color framing his irises. The telltale trait that he is Stigian is gone. "How did you do that?"

"Glass lenses. They form to my eyes and make it impossible to see. Everything is distorted, set in a golden haze, but they let me pass as Lucent."

"Remarkable," I whisper, unable to look away.

"Everyone is ready to head out when you are, Kyron," Ulric says, draping his arm over my shoulders. "Keep an eye on our general, nanny goat. He always returns from the capital in a sour mood."

I smile at the stupid nickname and say, "Maybe if you hold off on playing cards without him, he would be in better spirits."

"Speaking of which," Kyron butts in, "my winnings mysteriously dwindled a few weeks ago. None of you would know anything about that, would you?"

With a shrug and smirk, I say, "You know the rules, General. Sickness or health, you better show for card night."

"Aye. Our Elle will be a fair ruler one day." Ulric laughs, swaying me back and forth.

"Traitors, all of you," Kyron says with a lopsided grin.

I take Ulric's hand and step out from under his arm. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Major. I'd hate to imagine what this experience would have been like without you."

"It was my honor, Your Grace." We hug, and Ulric gives me a couple of firm pats on the back before letting me go.

Kyron opens the door to the carriage and gestures for me to step inside. I glance back at Ulric and Greer and give them a final melancholy wave. It feels strange to set off on this next leg of the journey without them; they became such a critical part of my mission. But they best serve our cause by commanding the camp while Kyron is away.

With a final nod at Terro, who sits atop Nortus at the back of the caravan, I say farewell to Basecamp.

The whining and crunching of wheels and the clapping of hooves fill the silence of the carriage. Kyron sits on the padded bench across from me, looking out the window while mindlessly unbuttoning his long jacket and loosening the strings of his tunic. He stretches his legs and slouches like he is shedding the weight of his responsibilities for a bit. I try to hold back a chuckle, and it comes out as a snort instead.

He slowly lifts his golden eyes and says, "What's so funny?"

"You. I've never seen you so laid back."

He rakes his gaze over my body—my back straight, chin high, and hands clasped in my lap. "And you always hold yourself with such poise. Even if I didn't know who you were when you arrived, it was obvious you were not an average girl."

I pull at the sleeves of my brown jacket, removing it, and throw it onto the bench next to me. "I can relax," I say, slinking down in my seat and straightening my legs between his. "Is this better?"

A sly grin bends his lips upward. "I can think of a couple better positions, but I suppose this will do for now."

My cheeks burn, and I rush to change the subject. "I hate those colored lenses. It's not you, and I like the color of your eyes."

He licks his lips and reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a satchel. After opening the lid to a small container of liquid, he removes the lenses and drops them inside. "Better?"

"Much," I say, knocking my knee against his.

"What happens when you get home?"

"You mean after Micah scolds me, and I profusely apologize to my mother?" I shrug. "I shadow Micah, oversee pet projects to get people used to seeing me as an authority figure, and plan my wedding."

Kyron glances at my betrothal ring. "When is that supposed to happen?"

"In two years."

"If you could choose—"

"I wouldn't."

He crosses his arms over his chest and watches the inside of his knee bounce against mine. "You wouldn't choose?"

"I wouldn't get married. Why should I ask someone to dedicate their life to me when I must dedicate mine to Lucent?"

His features soften, and his eyes fill with the same emotion that coats his next words. "Because they love you. Because you're worth the sacrifice."

My imagination runs wild with daydreams—sitting on my throne with Kyron by my side, an iron crown resting upon his head. A late dinner, where the two of us sit on the kitchen counter with a spread of food between us. We dance together well into the night, surrounded by joyful Lucents. And when the kingdom sleeps, and we are alone in our chamber, bare skin upon bare skin, tangled in the sheets of our massive bed...

I close my eyes and push away the image. It's a pretty picture, one which can never come true. Even if I could choose Kyron, our people would never accept him.

"What about you?" I ask. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in the military? Don't you want to get married?"

He stares out the window, catching glimpses of the passing forest between the swaying curtains. A line forms between his brows and he gnaws on his bottom lip. "If I'm being honest, I never gave it much thought. I'm surrounded by friends, I enjoy leading our army, and sex—I'm a hot commodity—the ultimate taboo if you will. There's always a woman willing." He turns back to me. "But lately, all that doesn't satisfy me in the same way; I find myself not as content. Maybe it is time for me to consider something I've never tried before."

"Perhaps," I say, wrapping my arms around my waist.

My jealousy is a vicious beast ripping through my insides. How liberating it must be to so easily decide to change course. This adventure was the first time I made a major decision for myself. Every substantial move I make must be approved by Micah. His secretary meets with me every week to prepare my schedule for the days ahead. I'm given a copy of my upcoming events and so is the king. I've had one glorious month that was mine. My freedom ends today and for the rest of my life, I will answer to a kingdom.

The silence between us stretches, and so do our legs until they're tangled together. Neither of us shy away from meeting the other's gaze or letting our gifts bridge the divide between us. This could be the last moment we share like this, lost in intimate conversation, and freely admiring the other.

If Kyron is right, I won't see him after he delivers me home. He will be preoccupied with the General's Summit. I've never been invited to join the annual meeting. Granted, I'm just coming into many of my duties as future queen and military strategy is the one area of my education that Borin left for Micah and my father. That was to change this year as I shadowed the king. I guess I can think of my time at Basecamp as a jumpstart to those teachings.

Hours later, we reach the gates of Lucent and I straighten in my seat, pulling on my jacket. As our caravan passes through the main street, Kyron inserts the golden lenses into his eyes and adjusts his clothing. The closer we get to the palace, the greater the shift in the air between us. He returns to his duty as general, and I to the future queen of Lucent.

This is the end to myfreedom, the end to my days training as a soldier. I will no longer chase suspicious generals into nearby towns, watch the sun rise while I complete drills, and I will never watch colors dance in the night sky while my gift mingles with another. My soul aches and my heart splinters. Things will never be the same for Kyron and me.