Spirit run wild

*Chapter 21: The River and the Question*

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Elias didn’t ask permission. He just said “Come on” and walked.

Amara followed. Green wool dress, Lucien’s belt at her waist, gray scarf around her neck. Brass buttons clicked with every step. She looked like she belonged on a base. She felt like she didn’t belong anywhere.

They left the gates. No guards stopped them. Personal guard privilege, apparently.

Ten minutes of walking and the trees opened up. River. Wide, clear, fast over stones. Sun hit the water and broke it into a thousand pieces. The air smelled like pine and cold water. No dust. No gunpowder. Just wind.

Amara stopped walking. Just... breathed.

“I come here most times,” Elias said, sitting on a flat rock. Took his hat off. 23, but looked younger without the uniform weight. “When the base gets too loud. When orders don’t make sense.”

Amara sat beside him. Not close. Not far. Let her boots dangle over the water. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. And meant it. Bellewood had gardens. This was alive.

They talked. Real talk. No Lucien. No escape plans.

Elias told her about his parents in Great Britain. “They wanted me in the family business. Shipping. Safe. Dry. Thought soldiering was for fools and younger sons. I went against their rules. Left a letter. Haven’t heard from them since.” He tossed a pebble in the water. “Sometimes I wonder if they were right.”

Amara felt sorry for him. This boy who picked a hard life just to choose it himself.

So she told him everything. Words spilling like river water. Her mother’s death. The last whisper: _“Be free, my Amara. Don’t let them cage your heart.”_ Her father’s hands shaking when he signed the papers. “He was insecure. Weak. Thought marrying me off to Lucien would make him powerful. Foolish old man. Gave me to that awful man like I was a horse in a trade.”

Silence. Just river sounds.

Then Elias looked at her. Really looked. “Amara... do you love him?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Lucien,” Elias said quietly. “Do you love him?”

She sat up straighter. Brass buttons catching sun. “That’s obvious. I hate him. As well as I hate his behavior. He’s just too mean. He slaps. He locks doors. He starves horses to win. How could anyone love that?”

Elias nodded slowly. Didn’t push. Didn’t judge. Just let the answer sit between them.

They stayed a bit longer. Feet in the water. Talking about nothing. About everything. For an hour, Amara wasn’t a prisoner or a wife. She was just a girl by a river with someone who listened.

Then they went back.

Big mistake.

Lucien was waiting in his office. Door open. Face stone. He’d heard. Of course he’d heard. The base had ears.

“Inside. Now.”

Amara stepped in. Elias behind her. Door stayed open.

“Where were you?” Lucien’s voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous.

“Outside the gates,” Amara said. Chin up. Green wool straight. “With my personal guard. Like you ordered.”

“With _your_ guard?” Lucien slammed his palm on the desk. “You spent an hour at the river talking about family. About me.”

Everyone outside could hear. Boots stopped moving. Voices dropped.

“It gets heated,” Elias started, but Lucien cut him off.

“You were ordered to bring her back safe. Not to take her on picnics, Lieutenant.”

Amara stepped forward. Belt creaked. “He didn’t take me. I chose to go. For once someone asked me what I wanted instead of telling me.”

“You chose?” Lucien’s eyes flashed. “You’re my wife, Amara. You don’t ‘choose’ to leave the base with a soldier.”

“I’m your prisoner,” she shot back. “You are so obsessed with yourself you think everything is about you and everyone is talking about you...fine he asked me if I love you. Do you want to know my answer?”

“Amara—” Elias warned.

“Yes,” Lucien said. Quiet. Too quiet. “I want to know.”

Amara lifted her chin. Green wool, brass buttons, his belt at her waist. “I hate you. I hate your meanness. I hate that you think you own me. Is that loud enough for everyone outside to hear, Colonel?”

Silence. Heavy. Ugly.

Lucien stared at her. At the belt. At Elias. His jaw worked. He wanted to yell. Wanted to hit the desk again. Wanted to drag her out by that braid.

Instead he just said: “Elias. Outside. Amara. Sit.”

The argument wasn’t over. But the door was still open. And the whole base had heard Mrs. Devereaux say she hated him.

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