Silver Rose 🌹

One Cloak

The Dead Mountains were not cold at first.

They were hot.

The black rock soaked up the sun and burned through Kael's boots and through Lyra's stolen boots. Every step felt like stepping on a hot pan. The glowing salt map floated in front of them, showing a thin silver line up and up.

"No wonder no one comes here," Lyra panted after two hours. "It's a giant oven."

Kael didn't answer. He was scanning the sky. The red clouds that never moved were now moving. Fast.

"Storm," he said. "On the mountains, storms come in minutes."

As if hearing him, the wind hit.

It wasn't normal wind. It was ice wind. One second it was 30 degrees and burning, the next it was -10 and howling. Snow — black snow — started falling from the red clouds.

"Black snow?" Lyra shouted over the wind.

"Volcanic ash! Cover your mouth!"

The world turned white-black. The salt map flickered and almost went out. Kael grabbed Lyra's hand hard.

"Don't let go! If we get separated we die!"

The wind was so strong Lyra couldn't see his face even though he was right next to her. The giant boots were useless on ice. She slipped —

Kael caught her around the waist and dragged her to a c***k in the rock, a shallow cave, barely big enough for two people. He shoved her in first, then squeezed in after her, his back against the entrance to block the wind.

Inside, it was pitch black and freezing. Outside, the storm screamed like a living thing.

Lyra was shaking so hard her teeth clattered. Her nightgown and cloak were soaked from ash-snow.

"S-s-so c-c-cold," she stammered.

Kael was shaking too, but trying not to show it. His sleeveless shirt was useless. He took off his guard cloak — the only real warm thing they had — and tried to wrap it around her.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I run hot. Guard training," he lied. His lips were already turning pale.

Lyra knew he was lying. She had seen him cold before. He got quiet when he was cold.

She scooted closer. "That's stupid. One cloak for two people only works if both people are under it, Captain Obvious."

"Princess, protocol states—"

"Kael, if you freeze to death, who is going to carry me up this stupid mountain? Get under here."

She opened the cloak like a wing and pulled him down. The cave was so small they had to sit chest-to-chest, knees to knees, the cloak over both of them like a tent. Their breath made fog.

This close, Lyra could see snowflakes melting on his eyelashes. He was trying very hard to look anywhere but at her.

"See? Tactical heat sharing," she whispered, echoing his words.

"Tactical," he repeated, his voice tight.

But the storm was getting worse. The wind found the c***k and blew ice inside. Lyra's shivering got worse.

Kael hesitated for three full seconds. Then, his guard training losing to something more human, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her fully against his chest.

Lyra froze, then melted.

He was warm. He really did run hot, like a furnace. His arms were strong and safe.

"Better?" he whispered into her hair, awkwardly, like he'd never hugged anyone before.

"Much better," she whispered back, her face buried in his neck. She could feel his heart beating very fast against her cheek. Thump thump thump.

They stayed like that while the storm raged.

After a while, when Lyra stopped shivering, Kael started talking. Quietly, so she had to listen.

"When I was 12... my father died on a mission like this. He was a guard. He was supposed to escort a diplomat across these mountains. But there was a storm. Like this one. And there was a woman — the diplomat's daughter. He... he had fallen in love with her."

Lyra listened, not moving.

"Protocol says you save the diplomat first. Always. But he went back for her when she fell behind. He saved her. But the diplomat died. And then an avalanche... both my father and the girl..."

He swallowed. "My mother told me love makes you choose wrong. That's why I took the Ice Vow early. At 15, not 18. I didn't want to choose wrong."

Lyra pulled back just enough to look up at him. In the dark cave, lit only by the faint glow of the salt map, his eyes were wet.

"Kael," she said softly. "Your father didn't choose wrong. He chose kind."

Kael stared at her. No one had ever said that to him. Everyone in the barracks said his father was a disgrace who let emotions compromise a mission.

"He chose love. And love is not weakness," Lyra said, her voice small but fierce. "If you were in a storm and I fell behind, I would want you to come back for me."

"I would," Kael said instantly. No hesitation. "I would always come back for you."

The words hung in the tiny cave, louder than the storm.

Lyra's eyes widened. Kael's eyes widened, realizing what he just said.

"I mean — as a guard! As your guard, I would—"

"Shhh," Lyra said, and before her brain could tell her heart to stop, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. Quick, soft, right on the edge of his mouth. Her lips were cold, his cheek was warm.

Kael went completely still. Like stone. Like her parents.

Then his hands, which were around her waist, tightened just a little.

"Lyra," he whispered, his voice broken.

Outside, the storm, as if embarrassed, started to quiet. The black snow stopped. The red clouds parted, showing a sliver of moon.

The salt map glowed brighter, showing they were only halfway.

Lyra pulled back, her face burning despite the cold.

"Tactical cheek warming," she said quickly. "For morale."

Kael touched his cheek where she kissed him, his ears so red they glowed in the dark.

"My morale is... critically compromised," he whispered.

Lyra giggled, then yawned. The warmth and the adrenaline crash were making her sleepy. She curled back into his chest, safe.

"Sleep, Princess," Kael whispered, his arms still around her, his chin resting on her head now, no longer pretending to be professional. "I will keep watch."

"You better not trade my kiss to a witch," she mumbled sleepily.

"Never," he said.

And he didn't sleep all night. He watched the storm die, holding the princess who was trying to make him fall in love with her, and wondering if maybe he had already fallen three years ago in the muddy training yard and was just too stubborn to admit it.

When morning came, the Dead Mountains were covered in black ice, sparkling like a mirror to the sky.

Mission progress: 60%. He held her all night.