I didn’t know how to tell Eleni that I thought we were going to die. I sat there, sipping on my chai, but the sweet taste was soured by the truth. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but a fresh wave of nausea dizzied me every time I thought about everything that El and I had tried to build together, everything that was going to come crashing down, going to be snatched from us. My hand was slick with tears I had tried to desperately wipe away, but I could already feel more threatening at the corners of my eyes. It was just me then, in the disquieting silence of Rhodian’s café, the only sound a faint, half-hearted plunk of lyre strings from next door and the constant, soulless marching of a clock.

Eleni wasn’t more than ten minutes late, but even the familiar crack of the metallic heels of her boots on the grey flagstones didn’t reassure me like they normally did. She slung her sabre onto her shoulder and trudged over towards our table. I heard her breath hitch as she caught sight of me, my face pink and blotchy from my tears.

“Cal?” She whispered anxiously, taking my hand in hers. “What’s the matter?”

I didn’t know where to start. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, but…I didn’t think it was going to be okay. I listened to my breath quaking, and watched her through my blurring eyes, wondering whether I’d remember her, even if I never saw her again. I didn’t know how I was going to let go of her. Her perfect eyes, the way that her short ebony hair danced in the wind, how she kissed me every time we met, that cute little half-smile of hers.

I take a deep breath. “El… I need to talk to you about something. Something serious. But know that I love you, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah…of course Callia. There’s nothing we can’t solve together, is there?”

“Eleni. That’s the problem.” I said. I didn’t want to tell her what came next. I tried to steady myself, but tears were running down my face. “Babe, we can’t…be together anymore.”

“Cal…why?” she says, her voice wobbling, her bottom lip quivering as she wills herself not to cry.

“Because El, I am Princess Callia of the 43rd royal regiment of Seraphim Vale. And you…who are you?”

“Commander Eleni, 1st legion of Cleotonia.” She recites.

“Well…Commander Eleni…” I shudder, a shadow of a smile forced across my face. “Seraphim Vale and Cleotonia…are going to…have…declared war.”

I watched her brow furrow, her face clouded with something that was almost anger, but disbelieving confusion flickered in her eyes.

“Your father?” she asked, her words breaking as tears jabbed at her eyes.

“Your Emperor, El. Your goddamn Emperor Vasilis.” I roared in distraught rage. I’d never shouted at her before. Part of me wanted to believe that she could convince Vasilis to have mercy, but I knew that she hadn’t had any part in his counsel.

Callia…I love you. I love you. I love you. I will get you back if it’s the last thing I do.”

“El-” I say, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I love you too. I will always remember you.”

I hugged her then. Her breath on my cheek. Her body against mine. I didn’t want to let go. I felt her hands trace mine, and then our lips were pressed together and we were thirteen again, nothing but us and the shared thud of our heartbeats. But this was goodbye. I got ready for the end of our forever. Commander Eleni of Cleotonia. My El.

“Will I ever...see you again?”

“Maybe. Maybe someplace else, once it’s all over.”

They separated slowly, like the air itself didn’t want to let them. Eleni scrubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand and gave a short laugh that didn’t belong anywhere near her mouth. “You know this is the worst possible way to break up with someone. Declaring war is really overachieving.” She shook her head. “I always thought we’d at least argue about dishes first.”

Callia let out a broken sound that might have been a laugh if it had more air in it. “I was hoping we’d get to that stage. You’d hate my teacups.” She wiped her cheeks, then steadied herself. “Eleni. If we meet again like this. Across a field. Armor on. I need you to know I won’t freeze.”

“Good,” Eleni said immediately. Too quickly. “I’d be offended if you did.” She leaned in, forehead touching Callia’s. “But listen to me. Wars are loud. Crowded. Orders get lost. People get misplaced.”

Callia frowned. “That sounds like a terrible reassurance.”

“It’s not meant to be reassuring,” Eleni said softly. “It’s meant to be useful.” Her fingers tightened once around Callia’s. “If the world insists on putting us on opposite sides, then it better accept that we’re very bad at staying where we’re told.”

The clock in the café struck the hour, sharp and final. Callia inhaled and stepped back, forcing her hands to let go. “Then I guess this is where we pretend we’re strangers again.”

Eleni straightened, mask sliding back into place with painful familiarity. “For now,” she said. And just before she turned away, she added quietly, “Try not to die before I get the chance to be furious about it.”