Chapter 8
Rowan Valebright was bad at days off.
This was not opinion.
This was fact.
He stood in the center of his quarters, fully dressed in his usual travel cloak, sword belted at his side, staring at the door as though it might suddenly attack him.
Nothing happened.
No alarms rang.
No bells tolled.
No monsters burst through the walls.
Rowan frowned.
"This feels wrong," he muttered.
Behind him, Sir Dorian lounged across a chair with infuriating comfort, boots propped on Rowan's table.
"You," Dorian said lazily, "are on leave."
"I've never taken leave," Rowan replied.
"Then congratulations," Dorian grinned. "You're about to experience what the rest of us call 'living.'"
Rowan crossed his arms. "I could still help with patrol rotations."
"No."
"Review reports?"
"No."
"Stand near the wall in case something—"
Dorian stood and physically turned Rowan toward the door.
"Out," he said firmly. "You're not allowed back until sunset."
Rowan opened his mouth.
Dorian added, "Lila agreed."
Rowan stopped.
"...Did she," he said carefully.
"She did," Dorian said smugly. "And she suggested you 'do something normal.'"
Rowan's eye twitched.
"I don't know what that means."
The streets of Eastrun were brighter than Rowan remembered.
Not because they had changed — but because he was actually looking at them.
Without armor.
Without urgency.
Without the weight of imminent disaster pressing against his spine.
People passed him without stopping.
That was new.
He walked for a while without direction until he realized he was... wandering.
This was deeply unsettling.
And then he saw her.
Lila stood near a small market stall, examining a display of pastries with intense concentration.
Rowan stopped.
She hadn't seen him yet.
She was wearing a light blue dress instead of her usual work attire. Her hair was braided loosely over one shoulder.
Rowan forgot how to breathe.
She turned.
Their eyes met.
They both froze.
"Oh," Lila said.
"Oh," Rowan replied.
There was a pause.
A very loud pause.
"Well," she said, gesturing awkwardly, "this is... unexpected."
"Yes," he agreed. "I am... not working."
She smiled nervously. "Neither am I."
They stood there, both remembering the kiss.
Very vividly.
"So," Rowan said, "how are you?"
"Fine!" she said quickly. "Very fine. Completely fine."
She immediately knocked over a stack of napkins.
Rowan caught them before they hit the ground.
Their hands brushed.
They both flinched.
"Oh—sorry," she said.
"My fault," he said.
It was no one's fault.
They ended up walking together.
Not because either of them suggested it.
It just... happened.
"So," Rowan said, "Dorian told me you suggested I do something normal."
"Yes," she said. "I may have."
"What qualifies as normal?" he asked seriously.
She considered. "Pastries. Walking. Not saving anyone."
He nodded solemnly. "I can do that."
They bought pastries.
Rowan stared at his like it might explode.
"It won't," Lila assured him. "Probably."
He took a bite.
His eyes widened.
"This is... excellent."
She laughed. "You've been missing out."
They sat by the river.
Close.
Not touching.
Yet.
The silence stretched.
Comfortable.
But charged.
Rowan cleared his throat. "About yesterday—"
"Yes?"
"I apologize if that was inappropriate."
She blinked. "The kiss?"
"Yes," he said, mortified. "I understand workplace boundaries and—"
She interrupted him gently. "Rowan."
"Yes?"
"I kissed you back."
His brain stopped.
"Oh," he said.
"Yes," she smiled softly.
They both looked away at the same time.
They spent the afternoon doing nothing important.
Which was, apparently, exhausting.
Rowan tried to help a street performer before being told politely to sit down.
Lila bought him a ribbon for his cloak. He protested. She tied it on anyway.
He did not remove it.
Once, when a loud noise echoed nearby, Rowan instinctively stepped in front of her.
She didn't move away.
That mattered.
As the sun dipped lower, they stood near the bridge overlooking the river.
"Today was nice," Lila said.
"Yes," Rowan agreed. "I did not anticipate that."
She smiled. "We could... do it again."
His heart skipped.
"I would like that," he said.
They stood there as the light faded.
Still awkward.
Still close.
And slowly learning that peace could be just as frightening as war.
Rowan discovered two things very quickly.
First: walking through Eastrun with Lila beside him felt dangerously close to happiness.
Second: people noticed.
A lot.
He became aware of it when the baker bowed too deeply, the fishmonger winked, and a passing pair of apprentices audibly gasped.
Lila noticed too.
"...Why is everyone staring?" she whispered.
Rowan frowned. "Am I doing something wrong?"
"No," she said quickly. "I mean—maybe? I don't know."
They both glanced down.
They were walking close enough that their arms brushed with every step.
Neither of them moved away.
"Oh," Lila murmured.
"Yes," Rowan agreed.
They continued like that.
By the time they reached the plaza, the rumors had clearly outpaced them.
"Is it true?" someone whispered.
"I heard he finally smiled."
"That's her, right?"
Lila's ears turned pink.
Rowan straightened slightly, instinctively shielding her from the attention.
"That might make it worse," she whispered.
"I'm not sure how to stand less protectively," he admitted.
She laughed softly. "That's alright."
They stopped near a fountain.
Lila leaned against the stone edge, watching the water sparkle.
"People are going to talk," she said lightly.
"Yes," Rowan said. "They already are."
She hesitated. "Does that bother you?"
He considered the question carefully.
"No," he said. "What bothers me is the idea of pretending this didn't happen."
She looked up at him, surprised.
"You're very brave on battlefields," she said. "I wasn't sure about this one."
He smiled faintly. "Neither was I."
The awkwardness returned when Sir Dorian appeared.
Of course he did.
"ROWAN," Dorian boomed, striding across the plaza like a man who lived for exactly this moment. "What a coincidence."
Rowan sighed. "You're enjoying this."
"Immensely," Dorian said. He turned to Lila. "Did you know the entire west district thinks you're engaged?"
Lila choked. "WHAT?"
Rowan nearly dropped his tea.
"Engaged," Dorian repeated cheerfully. "Someone saw the ribbon on his cloak."
Rowan looked down at it.
The ribbon Lila had tied there.
"...Oh," Lila said faintly.
Rowan opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"We are not—" he began.
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Yet?"
Rowan glared.
Lila covered her face with her hands.
They escaped Dorian shortly after.
Barely.
By the time they reached a quieter street, both of them were laughing.
"That was awful," Lila said.
"Yes," Rowan agreed. "But also... amusing."
She smiled at him. "You didn't deny it very strongly."
He hesitated.
"I didn't want to embarrass you."
She tilted her head. "You wouldn't."
Their eyes met.
The laughter faded.
Something softer took its place.
Rowan reached out, then stopped himself.
"May I?" he asked.
Her heart melted a little at the question.
"Yes," she said.
He took her hand.
Just that.
No battle.
No prophecy.
Just fingers entwined.
They walked like that until the sun dipped low again.
Eventually, they reached the guild.
The door loomed.
Duty waited inside.
Rowan stopped.
"I don't want this to end," he admitted quietly.
Lila squeezed his hand. "It doesn't have to."
He smiled. "I'll be terrible at this."
She laughed. "I know."
They stood close.
Very close.
The air felt heavy with possibility.
Rowan leaned down—
A shout echoed from inside.
"THE LEDGER IS ON FIRE—"
They sprang apart instantly.
Rowan groaned.
Lila laughed helplessly.
"I suppose," she said, "that's our cue."
"Yes," Rowan sighed. "Hero of yesterday."
She grinned. "Bachelor of today."
He smiled back.
"The ledger is on fire!"
The shout echoed again from inside the guild.
Rowan took one step toward the door.
Then stopped.
He stood there, caught between instinct and intention, heart racing as though a battle horn had sounded.
Beside him, Lila watched carefully.
"You don't have to go," she said softly.
He looked at her.
The words felt dangerous.
Powerful.
"I should," he said automatically.
Then paused.
"...I always do."
Silence stretched between them.
Inside, the shouting continued, followed by someone yelling, "Never mind! It's just smoking!"
Rowan exhaled slowly.
He turned back to Lila.
"I want to stay," he admitted.
Her smile was small. Real. "Then stay."
He did.
They moved away from the guild doors, settling on the steps leading up to the balcony that overlooked the city. The sky was deepening into shades of orange and violet, lanterns flickering to life below.
Rowan sat carefully, as though worried the stone might object.
Lila tucked her legs beneath her, relaxed in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
"You're very tense," she observed.
"I'm learning," he said. "Unlearning, perhaps."
She leaned back on her hands. "You did well today."
He blinked. "I did?"
"You walked. You ate pastries. You didn't save anyone." She smiled. "That's impressive."
He chuckled quietly. "I kept waiting for something to go wrong."
"And did it?"
He considered the day.
The kiss.
The laughter.
The rumors.
"No," he said. "Not really."
A comfortable quiet settled in.
Then Lila spoke, voice softer than before.
"Rowan... when things get dangerous again—"
"They will," he said gently.
"Yes," she nodded. "I know. But when they do... I don't want to be someone you keep behind."
His chest tightened.
"You won't be," he said firmly. "I promise."
She studied him. "You mean that."
"I do," he said. "You remind me that I'm more than the Shield."
Her breath caught.
"That's a heavy responsibility," she teased.
He smiled. "You handle ledgers. I think you can manage me."
She laughed.
Then grew quiet.
"So," she said, "what happens now?"
He turned toward her.
"We keep doing this," he said. "Slowly. Honestly. Awkwardly."
She smiled. "I can do awkward."
"Good," he said. "So can I."
They stood together as the stars began to appear.
This time, there was no interruption.
No explosion.
No shouting.
Just them.
Rowan reached out, hesitated—then remembered he didn't need permission anymore.
Lila leaned in.
Their kiss was gentle.
Unhurried.
Certain.
When they parted, she rested her forehead against his chest.
"You're warm," she murmured.
"I'm told that happens when one relaxes," he said.
She smiled.
From the city walls, the wind shifted.
Far beyond Eastrun, something old stirred.
Not in anger.
Not yet.
But in recognition.
The Shield was learning to rest.
And that, perhaps, was the most dangerous thing of all.