Esfandar looked up as the doors to his study opened and closed with a dulled thud. The metal doors slipped shut as Gita entered, dressed in her strange combination of military uniform and traditional warrior's outfit.

She seemed more stressed than usual, though no one in this city seemed to be carefree these days. Rations had been issued to the citizens in the event of a siege, his men were training night and day, and soldiers were everywhere scrambling to prepare for an attack and invasion. The air in Shiraz was thick with the sweat and smoke and tension of a city preparing for war.

It was only the two of them. Normally, Karim would be present to give out his sarcastic remarks and complete their trio. Tonight however, he was in the palace archives, researching for possible tunnels under the city walls. Which meant that this was the first time they'd been alone together in some time.

Gita didn't bother to bow. She walked towards him, her stride purposeful and her expression intent. Esfandar stood up from his desk and made his way toward her, equally concerned. He expected a dire report of the situation on the front lines, an unprecedented advancement of Soraya's troops. Something urgent.

He did not expect her to grab him by his collar and kiss him firmly. However his surprise was short lived. In a moment his arms curled around her and he returned her kiss in turn.

After their last embrace, they hadn't had the opportunity to talk things over or discuss what this was between them. Esfandar had been desperate for the opportunity to do so these past few days. Now he had that chance, but all he could do was pull her closer and tilt her chin gently to the side to deepen the kiss.

Gita was a passionate person, but rarely shared that side of herself openly with others. He was in awe that she had chosen him as one of the few to get to be with her like this.

Esfandar lost track of time, but soon they were forced to separate, gasping for breath. Their foreheads touched as he leaned forward, still close enough that he could see every stray hair hanging in her face, count every eyelash. She looked at him as well, her face unreadable. He wondered what she saw there.

"You're good at this," Esfandar said as soon as he caught enough of his breath. His fingers entwined with hers, their hands hanging at their sides.

Gita only gave him that small smirk of hers, the one that meant she knew something he didn't.

"You're not bad," she replied, making him laugh softly.

He needed to say something. He wanted to say something. To say that he remembered that look on her face all those years ago when she'd held the dagger against his throat and declared that she would spare his life. That he remembered every glance she'd given him since that day and every smile.

Gita was a force. That's the only possible way he could describe her and do her any justice. She was brave and unflinching in the face of an enemy, carrying herself with a self-assurance that he couldn't comprehend, and that he envied of her.

She was smart and strong and selfless- that last one was perhaps the most incredible of all. In Esfandar's short time in this world, he'd learned that he could trust no one to be good. Perhaps people could have good intentions, and genuinely wish to follow their morals. In the end, however, the desire to protect the self would always win. They would always lie, always betray. But not Gita.

First she had spared his life when he above anyone else deserved to die at her hands. He remembered his clenched fist at his sides, the sweat pouring down his face as he'd waited for her blade to finish him, and the utter shock when it hadn't.

She hadn't forgiven him, he'd come to find out, not by a hundred years. But she refused to take his life in revenge. Not because she didn't want to, but because she knew it went against everything she believed in.

How could one person be so strong and wise? His every moment spent with her after that was spent asking and wondering to himself at that question, wondering at her. She only proved that he'd been wrong about the world and the people in it again and again at his side through the years.

Her words broke into his thoughts, drawing him back to the present moment.

"Here," she said, slipping a roll of parchment into his hand. "More news from the capital."

He wordlessly took the scroll and began to open it. He had many spies serving him inside of Nishapur, keeping him updated on Roshani's movements even as she blockaded his forces in the north. Recently, however, Roshani seemed to have cracked down harshly on people traveling in and out of the city. Updates from his spies had become infrequent, only heightening the anxiety constantly roiling in his stomach.

He buried his dread and read the message.

When he finished reading it he closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh. It wasn't anything earth-shattering. Nothing that he hadn't known before. Yet it still made him tense with nerves.

The message stated that a date had been set for Kasra's coronation as crown prince. The entire city was preparing for the day. Empress Roshani, according to rumors, was sparing no expense for the festivities, giving the citizens of the capital a brief but welcome distraction from the war.

"It's Kasra," he said, answering the unspoken question in Gita's concerned gaze. "He will be made official heir to the throne within the week."

Gita's concerned expression only deepened, her brow furrowing. "Are you alright?"

Esfandar didn't entirely know how to feel about it. The biggest part of him was just overwhelmingly relieved that Kasra was alive and well, that Roshani had allowed him to live and chose to protect him. But it made Esfandar's predicament infinitely more difficult. What would he do if Roshani chose to use him as a hostage? If she told Esfandar to surrender or else she would kill their little brother... would he have the strength to do it?

Yes. Yes, he would do it and that is what he hated the most. If forced, he would choose the empire over Kasra's life and spend the rest of his life hating himself for it. Then this war would take even more of his family away from him.

"Roshani's too cunning," he said. He knew he was dodging her question, but she let him without pushing. "I can never know what she's thinking, what she's planning. If I'm not careful she'll trick me into my own death before we can even begin to march on Nishapur."

Gita sighed. "I still think you should reach out to Soraya." Esfandar stiffened but she pressed forward. "United, your forces would be strong enough to take on Roshani. The people believe that the gods are on her side. If you joined her, they would flock to your cause."

Esfandar shook his head. "She sent those priests to sow rebellion in my city," he said. "She sent those men to poison our wells. Her position is clear. She sees me as her enemy."

"But what if it's only malicious advisors whispering in her ear?" Gita protested. "You can't know for sure unless you speak to her."

"No. Every decision she makes is her own," Esfandar replied. "Soraya was always quiet, unassuming. Some might think she'd be easily manipulated. But I know her better than most. She's not a tiger like Roshani but a viper. She waits and waits and moves quietly, then strangles you before you realize she's shifted at all. She's in full control of her decisions. If she had any intention of joining me, she would have done so from the beginning."

At seeing the certainty in his eyes, Gita reluctantly acquiesced. "Alright," she said. "If you're sure." She slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. "But she's still your family. Even Roshani. At the end all of all of this... maybe there's a way to fix things. To put aside the hatred and anger that your parents left you and be that family again."

It was a nice dream, even if it was an impossible one. He understood what she wanted to tell him. That it was the former Shah that had started this mess, who was responsible for tearing apart their family and the empire with it. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't destroyed it all himself, even if it sometimes felt that way. He squeezed her hand in his, closing his eyes.

"I don't deserve this," he said. "I don't deserve you."

"It's not about deserving it," she replied insistently. "You think I haven't done anything that I'm ashamed of, that I regret?" She brought her hand to cup his jaw and he opened his eyes. "We have each other. We always have. We'll fight, and we'll win, just like always."

That time it was impossible to tell who kissed who first, but Esfandar pulled Gita close to him and soon forgot to think of anything else at all.