The air was cold, but Jinsoul had abandoned a cloak. She couldn’t wear it today. 

A few had already gathered. She wasn’t too early and she wasn’t too late either. That was good.

She went closer, watching as they looked up and their eyes locked on her. The heir to the throne. The heir to Rome. 

But today, she would hold no tie to the throne. There would always be one, but that wasn't how they were supposed to treat her. She still didn’t know how she was going to prove that to them. 

She looked around, accidentally catching the eyes of those who were looking at her. She started to look at the ones who weren’t looking at her. 

A girl stood off to the side, quietly laughing with another. Her hair had been tied into a high ponytail. Her smile was small, but it was so clear that the full smile would be something worth seeing. 

Jinsoul watched as she shook her head, muttering something, but the look in her eyes was kind. 

Then she looked over, meeting Jinsoul’s gaze. 

Jinsoul turned her head and kept walking. Her cheeks felt warm. 

There was a ring of people somewhere else. They were fighting. A weapons rack with wooden swords, spears, and shields stood to the side. 

Jinsoul gathered her resolve. She’d chosen to come here. This was where she wanted to be. 

The fighting slowed as she came closer, exactly what she hadn’t wanted. 

Some started to bow. 

Jinsoul looked to the general then. Gaius. 

“Jinsoul volunteered for the army and will be treated as you would any other here,” he announced. There were messengers nearby too. They’d spread it around the camp. 

There was surprise among those who were here. They’d known she was coming, but probably only really thought it was a visit. 

“You don’t have to bow to me,” Jinsoul said then. “I’m here to fight,” she continued. “With you.” 

The confusion stayed. 

“We’ll continue.” Gaius waved to those who’d been in the middle of a duel. “As normal.” 

Jinsoul just moved to the side and watched. 

Two girls sparred with wooden swords, both equally matched, but one far more on the offensive. 

Jinsoul saw then how the one on the defensive feinted, as if making a strike on her legs, making the other step back. Then the one defending leapt forward, her hand slamming into the other’s shoulders, knocking her back. She stumbled, before falling. She raised her sword in time to catch the other, but lacked the strength the second time. The wooden sword was pressed against her chest. 

“Dead,” the girl muttered. She didn’t look happy. 

“Never let them capitalise on your momentum,” Gaius was saying then. “If you’re forced back, you need to be ready to push forward again. Otherwise you won’t be able to return from the fall until it’s too late.” Then he turned to the one who’d won. “Chaewon, it was a good strategy, but you let Hyeju dominate the entire time. If you were against someone with a heavier weapon, or even just more desperation, you would have lost in the first minutes.” 

Both of them bowed their heads, before Chaewon stuck out her hand. Hyeju looked at it for a few seconds too long before she accepted it. She let go immediately after, set in a firm line. They went to two opposite sides of the circle. 

“Jinsoul,” Gaius said. “Your turn.” 

Jinsoul nearly asked him if he was joking. To do this on the very first day, when it wasn’t even clear why she was here even if they’d said it—either it would be humiliating or alienate her completely. 

Still, she walked forward, keeping the shock from her face. Chaewon held out the wooden sword. She met her eyes once before looking away. The other one, Hyeju, went and put the sword back into the rack. 

“Volunteers?” Gaius asked. 

Silence. Of course there was silence. They’d think she’d have them executed if they hurt her. They’d think they’d be forbidden from ever challenging her, let alone not letting her win. 

“None of you.” He frowned. “It’s not a matter of being noble. She is merely a girl who will duel one of you. None will face any consequences. I'll make sure if it.” 

Still silence. 

Jinsoul looked between them, trying to seem as kind as she could. That worked in the city where those around her expected her to act like they did, but still be naive. 

Here it was different. Here it was normal, less outright political, and it seemed like she was supposed to have the most power, but she didn’t. The generals knew that, but they’d still want to treat her like more. She didn’t want that. 

“I will,” a voice said. 

Her eyes fell on the girl from before. She hadn’t seen her approach the group. 

“I don’t think,” Gaius started. 

“Training has to keep going somehow,” she shrugged, “so let’s start.” She walked forward. Her back was straight and the step sure, even though her eyes looked shy. 

Jinsoul held out the wooden sword. 

The girl raised an eyebrow at that, but took it. 

“I’ll use a spear,” Jinsoul replied, before walking between those surrounding them and to the rack. She took one of the two spears that wasn’t too short or too long for her. 

She knew how to use a sword, but she wanted to have the edge with the unexpected. She wasn’t sure, but with how some of them looked at her, as well as how she acted, Jinsoul was sure the girl was good. Maybe even better than she was. 

When she was in the circle again, the girl looked at her, the sword held at her side. Two seconds passed. Then the girl surged forward. 

She’d been right. The girl moved with great speed and she struck with strength too. 

Jinsoul ended up being pushed to the edge of the circle, dodging the blows aimed for her head and chest. She batted at the girl’s arm with the of the spear, before ducking under the next blow and getting back to the centre. 

The girl didn’t lose her balance when she spun around, eyes narrowing as she eyed her. Jinsoul waited. She couldn’t do any sort of stabbing motion, not when the girl had a free hand that could easily make a grab for the spear. 

Still, Jinsoul closed the distance this time, evading the next arc of the sword. She sank low and swept her spear across her legs. 

The girl landed on the ground hard, before scrambling for the spear and yanking it forward. 

Jinsoul stumbled and then the girl grabbed her arm, pulling her down and pushing her to the ground. The side of the wooden sword pressed into her stomach in the next moment. 

She saw the moment doubt hit the girl. Her eyes widened and she pulled the sword away. 

“I-I’m,” she stammered.

“You won,” Jinsoul said. She smiled. 

The girl stared at her, bewildered. Her expression while fighting had been focused, but no cruelty or even smugness. 

“And now back to training, stop spectating,” Gaius said sharply. “These aren’t the games.” 

Jinsoul realised then that the group around them had practically doubled. 

Now they walked away. The girl was getting up. She held out a hand, before pulling it away, and holding it out again. 

“I’m sorry.”

Jinsoul took it. “For what?” She stood up as well. 

The girl avoided her eyes. “I forgot that,” she stammered, “that you were—“ 

“You’re supposed to,” Jinsoul said. “All of you are.” 

She frowned then. 

“She’s right,” Gaius said. “Now off to your training, you need to fight against the spear more.” 

The girl nodded, before she left. 

Jinsoul nearly stopped her. She wanted to know her name. 

But she was too far away to ask.

“It was good you lost,” the general told her. “If you wanted them all to see you as less than who you are.” He didn’t sound happy. 

Jinsoul knew well enough why and ignored the implications in that tone. 

“She’s good,” Jinsoul replied. “Where do I go?” 

“There,” he pointed to where archers were training, “you lack power in your arms. Then you’ll work on your balance some more, but that’ll be tomorrow evening.” 

Jinsoul started to walk, but he walked with her. She stopped. 

“You will rule over these people,” he said quietly, “if they see you as weak, you could lose control of your army before you can ever command them.” 

“I didn’t come to command them,” Jinsoul shot back. “I’m here to fight with them.” 

He looked at her for a long moment. “Fool.” He shook his head, before turning away. 

Jinsoul walked to where the archers were. She ignored the stares and promptly missed the target and hit a tree a metre away from it. 

Someone laughed, before covering their mouth. Jinsoul laughed and tried again. 

He’d been right. Her arms were weak. 

______

Jungeun watched as the emperor’s daughter walked through the camp to where the food was. Even from afar, it was all too clear that Jinsoul was more than exhausted. 

“Why’s she here?” Chaewon was frowning. “Needing excitement? Life in Rome too peaceful?” 

“Or she’s here to spy on us,” Hyeju replied. “Better to have a member of the imperial family here than to rely on the generals for it.” 

“Doesn’t help when everyone’s terrified of insulting her,” Jungeun muttered. “No one’s going to want her sitting anywhere close.” 

“Not sure if you get to talk when you could’ve been executed for besting Her Highness in a duel.” Hyeju was frowning at her. “You’re also an idiot.” 

Jungeun laughed. 

“She’s right,” Chaewon chimed in, “you had no idea if she’d be a spoiled brat, a bloodthirsty tyrant, or someone who’d snap and try to really stab you with a piece of wood.”

“And she didn’t do any of that,” Jungeun replied. “She just took the loss.”

“She could come back while you’re sleeping and stab you with an actual knife.” 

Jungeun stared at Hyeju. “She’d poison me if she was smart. Or just wait until a battle for that one.” She saw the newcomer slowly sit down by herself, away from any of the fires. She ate, her back poised from manners only royalty could teach you. “And I was sure enough that she wouldn’t try to get her revenge so soon.” If at all, she added in her head, but she still doubted that. She didn’t know what the emperor’s daughter would do, let alone if she was hiding whatever revenge she’d try to take. Patience could be taught through royalty too. 

“I don’t know if you’re being naive or perceptive,” Hyeju shook her head, “expect the worst from her.” 

Jungeun just shrugged and got to her feet. 

“Where are you going?” Hyeju’s brow furrowed even more. “Not to—”

“Do you think eating alone out here helps anyone?” Jungeun asked. “I’m just seeing if she even wants to.” She walked over to her, feeling eyes on her. A part of her had hoped all of the attention would just stray to the royal among them, but dueling with said royal had negated that completely. 

Jinsoul looked up and the surprise that filled her eyes was comical. She'd never seen Jinsoul before. Not really. When her father had taken her to Rome every now and then, she'd seen her from afar, but as clearly as she'd seen the emperor. That had also been years ago. Jungeun was eighteen now. Jinsoul had to be around that age.   

Either way, even with the sweat and grime that covered her skin, Jinsoul’s beauty was hardly dampened. 

“How was the first day?” Jungeun asked. “Hard?” 

Jinsoul was quiet for a moment, still looking up at her. Then she seemed to come back to herself and shrugged. “I think so?” She drew out her words, just short of being slow. “Water duty,” she said. “And archery.”

“Your arms’ll be in pain tomorrow.” 

Jinsoul smiled. “They already are.” 

People were looking over at them. Jungeun didn’t really want to stay here too long. She'd already reconsidered asking her to eat with them. 

“Can you handle a spear better now?” Jinsoul asked. 

Jungeun fought a smile. “I think so. And you with a sword?” 

“That’s tomorrow.” Jinsoul’s smile grew. 

She’d already been blushing from the attention from the rest and now it was just getting worse.

“Well,” Jungeun started, “I have to,” she looked to the others, “get back.” 

“Okay,” Jinsoul nodded once, “I—” She chewed on her lip. “Can I ask what your name is?” 

In the back of her mind, Jungeun felt a flicker of fear. Was this where Jinsoul would send her name back to Rome and have her— 

“You know mine,” Jinsoul’s smile turned sheepish, “but it’s okay—I mean—well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“It’s Jungeun.” 

Her brow shot up, almost arching into a triangle in the middle. Then she nodded. “Goodnight, Jungeun.” 

Jungeun let herself smile. “Night.” 

She walked away, still being watched by the rest. 

Her friends looked at her too, as if she’d gone mad. 

When Jungeun looked back, she saw that Jinsoul was still smiling. 

______

The months went by and Jinsoul trained. She marched among the rest, fought with them, but still ate alone more than once each week. She’d been invited a few times, but she’d realised how much more guarded some were when she was near. She didn’t think it would change if she ate with them more. Each would be afraid of accidentally saying something that would insult the emperor or Rome. They would think that Jinsoul reported it back to the generals or directly to Rome. Jinsoul didn’t think that reassuring them would help quell that fear. They didn’t trust her. Not really. 

And for good reason. 

She was just glad there was enough trust that they’d spar and train with her. 

She saw Jungeun sometimes, but she was more often than not engaged with the hand-to-hand combat training. She wondered where she had gotten her agility. How she had built it up to a point where it looked so easy. 

They barely talked too. The closer they got to the actual start of the new campaign, the more quiet everything got. People were training harder, trying to eat more, before going to sleep as long as they could. 

Jinsoul fell into those rhythms easily too. Exhaustion became a common feeling each time she fell onto her bedroll. The soreness in her muscles was usually there, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been in the beginning. Bruises and small cuts were normal. Her hands were rougher too from using the weapons. It was everything she’d been trained for before and more. There wasn’t the promise of a larger meal or her soft bed. There wasn’t the talk of strategy for the battles themselves either. That was left to the generals. The rest was just how to keep each exchange with an enemy soldier as short as possible—to be in one place for the shortest amount of time. Standing still could mean a death sentence, but so could running blindly. 

There were no lessons on languages, Rome, or anything else. There was just the battle. 

Jinsoul found the strangest sense of peace within it. A focus that she hadn’t had before. A purpose. 

______

The first time they were sent out, it wasn’t a battle, but a skirmish that had grown, almost out of control. Jinsoul’s first kill had been a brief swipe across the neck, right before she needed to dodge the head of a spear aimed for her chest. The second and third deaths came within minutes of each other. It went on. 

Jinsoul knew that she wasn’t completely on her own, also kept away from the archers in the distance. There were soldiers who stayed closer to her and she’d also been put at the part that wasn’t the main offensive, but the fighting had still reached them. 

She’d watched people she’d trained with and others she didn’t know die. She’d tried to go to one to keep them from getting hurt, but someone had come into her path. When she’d looked back, the boy was choking on his own blood. 

And now it was over. The air was heavy, smelling of blood and a mixture of other foul things that could only come from the dead. 

Jinsoul couldn’t look anywhere without seeing a body. Exhaustion had already taken over her mind, her muscles ached, almost screaming for her to drop her sword and to take off the armour. She wanted to run from the field, but there were people still there. They needed to find who among the bodies was still alive. 

Jinsoul hadn’t been hurt. Her arm had a cut on it and a part of her chest felt like it had been crushed, but she wasn’t hurt. Hurt meant tears streaming down her face, clutching the wound, afraid that the bleeding wouldn’t stop. 

She found someone who was hurt, clutching her leg, skin pale and expression twisted by pain. 

Jinsoul called out for someone, before kneeling down beside her. She pressed her hands over the girl’s. 

“Can you move?” Jinsoul asked. “I can carry you.” 

“No,” she shook her head, “you don’t have to.” 

“I can shorten the way.” Jinsoul squeezed her arm. 

“I could move,” she said, gritting her teeth. “But you don’t—“

“I’ll help you up,” Jinsoul told her. She took her arm and put it around her shoulders. “Careful.” She heaved her up, wincing at the strangled cry that left the girl. “What’s your name?” 

“Heejin,” she muttered. “Do you think I’ll be able to walk?”

“I think you will,” she said. “But I don’t know.”

“I hope so.” Heejin sighed. 

Jinsoul slowly walked them along. She tried not to look at the bodies still there, but she needed to see if there was anyone moving among them. 

“Was this the first?” Heejin asked. 

Jinsoul nodded. It wouldn’t help to act like she was something else now. 

“I threw up.” She pursed her lips. “I still feel like I have to.”

“How many have you been in?” Jinsoul asked. 

“This is the third,” Heejin said. “Might be my last.” Then she scoffed. “Might not be that bad.”

Jinsoul didn’t reply. Knowing one battle made her want to go, but she also knew that Heejin was getting money through this. It wasn’t easy to get enough outside of it either, not if you couldn’t get the right job. 

“But I can be an archer,” Heejin said. “My aim’s not bad.” 

“I’m still working on mine,” Jinsoul replied. “We could practice together.” 

She laughed softly. “Sure.”

Two people ran over, holding a carrier. They put it down in front of them. Jinsoul brought her back down with one of the others. 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Heejin looked up then. “Your what?” 

“You don’t know who this—“ one started. 

“I’m Jinsoul,” she cut them off. “No titles.” She nodded to Heejin. “Take care of that leg.”

Heejin was still staring at her. 

“I’m in Gaius’ camp,” Jinsoul told her. “I’ll need some archery lessons.” 

And then they were carrying her off. 

“You,” Heejin started. Then she laughed. “Nice to meet you, Your Highness!” She saluted, before laying down. 

Jinsoul found herself smiling too. Then she turned around and went back onto the field. 

______

The celebrations after any fight were never easy to fully enjoy. They survived and won, so there was reason to cheer, but they’d also lost people. No one Jungeun had known well, but it wasn’t always like that. Even then, she knew some of the faces, either from training or a past battle. Now they were gone. 

Jungeun closed her eyes and said a small prayer to Pluto, praying that those who died and would deserve it, could go to the place where the dead were happy. Or so they said. 

Then she took a long drink from the wine. It was good for tonight. 

“More?” Hyeju asked. She was pointing at Jungeun’s empty plate. “There’s still beef.”

Jungeun nodded. They wouldn’t have any meat for the way back. She’d learned to cherish it when they had it, let alone when there was still some left. 

“Did you make sure that was cleaned again?” Chaewon asked. 

Jungeun looked at her arm. 

“Cleaned twice,” she said. “And it’s not burning. Just hurts.” 

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded still. 

Jungeun felt eyes on her. She looked around, seeing few actually looking her way. 

She saw Jinsoul then, at the edge of the revelry. She was staring down at the cup in her hands. 

Jungeun stood. She told the others she was going, before walking over. 

“There’s still food,” she said when she was a few metres away. 

Jinsoul looked up. Her brow rose before furrowing. Her eyes quickly lost the haunted look to them, replaced by something that bordered on stoic. Then it softened. Jungeun didn’t know if that was forced or not. 

“Beef,” Jungeun added. “And probably something sweeter too.” 

Jinsoul nodded once. “I ate enough.” 

“Does that mean one bread roll?” 

Something flickered in her eyes. She looked down. “Maybe.” 

“Can I?” Jungeun pointed to the ground. When Jinsoul nodded again, she sat down. “It’ll be a long way to go tomorrow.” 

“Even with the amount of wine that’ll be drunk?” 

“They recover along the way,” Jungeun said. “And others’ll be dragged by the horses.” 

Jinsoul’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

She smiled and shook her head. “We put them on spare horses. Or leave them where the wounded are still being treated. They’ll follow then.” 

Jinsoul seemed relieved. Her gaze was on the cup again. 

“Were you planning to be one of them?” Jungeun asked. “I can bring you more wine.” 

She let out a breath from her nose. “I don’t want anymore,” she said. “It wouldn’t really help.” 

“You’re right,” Jungeun nodded, tapping her cup to hers, “but it tastes good.” 

Jinsoul drank so Jungeun did as well. Her eyes drifted to the sky then, whatever thoughts she’d been having before already seeming to come back. 

“Was this,” Jungeun started. Then she stopped. Was she supposed to even ask her this now? At all? 

“The first time I’d fought?” Jinsoul finished. “Yes.” She sighed. “Is it that clear?”

“Yes and no,” Jungeun replied. “Some people always look like you do now, but you weren’t in the army before.” Still, from what she’d heard Jinsoul had stayed the entire time. She hadn’t run when the front lines had been broken through. She’d fought and even gone to find the wounded among the dead. 

“So you’ve fought before?” She was looking at her again, still hiding that look from before. Jungeun wondered if she had been trained to do that when she was in Rome. 

“It’s my third year,” Jungeun said. Officially, she added in her head. “It doesn’t get better,” she continued, “but it can get manageable.” 

“Can?” Jinsoul repeated. 

“Some get nightmares,” she replied. “Others dream normally, but look at a sword and remember then. There’ll be the ones who freeze even if you just held out a knife in front of them.” Then she sighed. “I’m not being helpful, am I?”

Jinsoul smiled ever so slightly. “Warnings can be helpful.” She put the cup down beside her. “And what about the ones where it doesn’t do that?”

“I don’t think they’re normal,” Jungeun admitted. “I get nightmares, but not every time.” 

She looked away again. “I think I’ll have nightmares.” Then her brow furrowed. “Is there a way to help the ones who get reminded when they’re awake?” 

Jungeun shook her head. “Give them time when we can. Rest too.” She shrugged. “Or let them train if it helps. You can’t do much else for them.” She didn’t say it, but at one point, some either deserted or left them another way. Jungeun was almost grateful she had nightmares instead of the waking memories. 

Jinsoul’s expression was cracking. Jungeun knew that feeling. She’d seen it with others too. 

“I’d never killed anyone before today,” Jinsoul said. “And today I don’t even know how many there were.” 

“It’s sometimes better not to know the number,” Jungeun said. “Or to think of their faces.” 

Her brow furrowed and Jungeun saw the guilt starting to form. 

“When you want to negotiate with them, make peace,” Jungeun started, “then remember those faces. Remember they’re people.” She felt a weight settle in her stomach. “But if we’re fighting them. Killing them,” she tried to meet her eyes, “you can’t think of who they are, how alike they are to us. Otherwise you’ll never bring the blade down and they’ll kill you first.” 

Jinsoul nodded. Resignation was making itself at home in her eyes. “You’re right.” 

“I make that mistake too,” Jungeun said then. “I forget they’re my enemy. Maybe just for a second, but it’s enough.” 

“For what?” Jinsoul almost looked as if Jungeun could give her some sort of answer to a question. 

“To mourn them,” Jungeun replied. “To pray that their souls reach somewhere better. Even if I was the reason they left so soon.” 

Jinsoul was quiet. Jungeun wondered if she’d said too much. She’d spoken to a few people in the past when they’d first been in a battle, but also after that. Someone had done that for her too and it helped not to sit alone. Usually. 

“Were you told to talk to me?” Jinsoul asked then. Her brow rose slightly. 

Jungeun frowned. “Why would I be told?” 

She shrugged once. “Make sure I’m not too lonely,” the corner of her lip tugged up, but it wasn’t a smile, “my father did that when I was little.” 

“Made people talk to you?” 

“Hired them to try and be my friend.” Jinsoul laughed slightly. “I’m just glad I was able to find others and make sure too they weren’t getting money for talking to me.”

“Are they in Rome now?” Jungeun’s friends were almost all here in the army, specifically this regimen. She wondered if Jinsoul missed hers now. 

“A few are on this campaign,” Jinsoul replied. “But either behind us or on a different front.” She shrugged. “One or two will be a part of the senate in the future.” 

“That’s lucky,” Jungeun said. In the back of her mind, she wondered if that was a way to get spies within the senate. Then again, it was also a way to try and avoid an assassination. Or to at least know if one was coming. 

She snorted once and nodded. “My father was actually proud of me for that.” Her eyes looked lost again for a moment. 

“My father was a general,” Jungeun told her. “Headed most of the campaigns in the last two decades.” She saw how Jinsoul nodded, acknowledging what she heard. Then she saw the moment she understood it and silently cursed. She hadn’t meant to give that away. 

Jinsoul didn’t ask about it. She only asked if Jungeun had come with him on any of those campaigns (she had), if she’d trained (with play swords), and if that was why she was here now (it was). 

“Did you like it?” Jinsoul asked. 

“No.”

She blinked once. Twice. 

In spite of herself, Jungeun smiled. “My father was always gone, my mother had already left for Elysium, and I was left alone to clean after horses, polish the swords, or fetch water.” She shrugged. “And when he was there, he had me train, trying to use all of the strength I’d built while he was off fighting. He was a strict teacher. Unfair too.” She remembered the penalties she needed to do each time when her stance was off or if her swing was too weak. 

“But?” 

“He was the best man I ever knew,” Jungeun said. Then she realised what she’d said. “And the-the—”

Jinsoul put a hand on her arm. “You don’t have to say the emperor,” she said quietly. “I love him, but you don’t have to honour him at every point.”

Her ears felt warm again. 

“My father did,” Jungeun replied. “So will I.” 

Jinsoul was quiet for a moment. “What changed?” she asked. “Why're you here again?” 

“It’s all I know.” Jungeun was surprised at how Jinsoul looked at her, wondering if the rapt attention in her eyes was put on or genuine. She was almost convinced it was genuine. “And it’s what my father wanted. It’s why he brought me here.”

“Do you want to be here?” 

Jungeun nodded. “It’s where he always was.”

Jinsoul still held her gaze. “I’m sorry.” 

“It was years ago,” she replied. “It wasn’t a surprise. Even then.” 

Her brow furrowed. 

“Fighting for so long,” Jungeun started, “the Fates don’t always want to keep yours extended that long. I think they gave him more string for each campaign, letting him lead one more, then another.” She took a small sip of the wine. “Until they didn’t have anything else.” The meaning of those words dawned on her then. “But that was—” she fought the urge to curse, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Jinsoul squeezed her arm before letting go. Jungeun realised then she missed the contact. “I know what you mean.” She was looking at the ground. “We just have to try and not pull on our strings of fate too quickly.”

They talked less of the war then and more of training. What would come next, what Jinsoul still needed to do. 

As Jinsoul described her progress with archery, Jungeun made a decision. 

“How’s training against the sword going?” 

Jinsoul’s brow shot up. She was surprisingly expressive that way. “Good?”

“Do you think you could beat me this time?” Jungeun asked. 

The corner of her lip tugged up. “Do you think you could beat me again?”

“Yes.” 

Jinsoul grinned. It was a beautiful expression. “I think we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

Jungeun nodded. “Next week then?”

“A week?”

“So you have time to prepare.” Jungeun pushed herself to her feet. “You’ll need new tricks.”

Jinsoul’s eyes held a challenge. So much livelier than they had been before. “And I’ll have them.”

Jungeun then bowed her head slightly. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well.” Jinsoul’s voice was softer again. 

Jungeun almost didn’t want to leave, but she made herself turn around. She felt a pang of disappointment and nearly turned back. She kept walking. 

______

There was shouting in the distance. Jinsoul looked out from her tent, but didn’t see anyone around. She followed the noise. Her body still hurt from the fighting. Her mind was still exhausted from the fear, from all of it. 

Others were also walking out. They were all going to the edges of the camp. This was where the prisoners were.

They came into view, still in the cages, but there was a group beside them. Jungeun was standing in front of the bars with Hyeju beside her. Jinsoul blinked, was she seeing things?

“They fought just as we did,” Jungeun hissed. Her cheek was bruised. One of the people opposite of her was holding her nose. “And you just let them bleed out?”

“They’re our enemy.” It was another general. Not Gaius. “They didn’t have the right to our physicians before the battle and they won’t have it now.” 

“The right,” Jungeun repeated. She took a step forward and Hyeju grabbed her arm. “Their right?” Her eyes were almost crazed. “They’re being sent to the Colosseum to die in front of thousands and you can’t even give them a proper meal?” 

The general narrowed her eyes. “Letting them live another day is more than what they deserve.” 

Something seemed to crack then, but Hyeju was wrenching her back before she could lash out.

“They’ve never been to Rome," Jungeun spat. "You're going to force them to starve all the way there, for days, and then force them to sit in cells for months until you take them out to have them die.” Her voice was raising in volume again.

“This has been happening for years. Your father let it happen too.”

“And he let them eat,” she snapped. “He gave them blankets for the night and he let their wounds be bound before putting them in the cage.” 

The general sneered. “But they were still sent to the Colosseum.” 

Jungeun didn’t move then, but Jinsoul saw the words take effect. She saw how some of the fight left her. 

“Let me take the body out,” Jungeun said then. “Don’t make them sleep next to a corpse.” 

The general looked at her for a long moment. “You can bring them water too,” she said. “But you’ll have watch over the horses for the entire week.” She sent a look at the one Jungeun had most likely broken the nose of. “You’ll clean the weapons.” 

She looked like she was about to protest, but the general’s expression sharpened. The soldier walked off, her nose still dripping. 

Jungeun was already getting the door opened, with the guards now making sure the rest wouldn’t try and attack her now. 

They didn’t. They only watched as Jungeun pulled their dead companion out. Hyeju was beside her and grasped their legs. 

“B-bury,” one started, “him. Please.” The woman’s voice trembled. 

Jungeun nodded once. 

Jinsoul went away. She walked until she found shovels. They were rusted from the rain and crusted still with dirt, but they’d work. 

When she went back, Jungeun was standing beside the discarded body. There was another next to it. She was crying. 

“I brought these,” Jinsoul said carefully. “Can I help?” 

Jungeun wiped at her eyes quickly, looking over at her. “Hyeju’s getting water,” she muttered. “We can do it alone.” 

“I can help you start.” She walked over to her and handed one shovel to her. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Jungeun said. “You already buried people. You’ve done what you’re supposed to.” 

Jinsoul frowned. “I’m not doing this because I think I have to.” She put the shovel into the ground and started digging. “They asked you to bury them, so we bury them.” 

Jungeun started digging too. Her eyes were reddened. 

They didn’t say anything. When Hyeju joined them, they didn’t either. 

They dug until they had two holes for both. They put both of them into the makeshift graves. 

And then there was the sound of metal clinking against metal. 

Jinsoul looked up only to see Chaewon walking over. She was holding a sword and an axe, with two shields hanging off of her arms. 

“I stole these,” Chaewon said. “They won’t know they’re missing.”

Jinsoul watched as she put the weapons and shields down beside the dead. She watched as Jungeun and Hyeju began to put the dirt back over their bodies. Jinsoul followed. Jungeun muttered something. When Jinsoul listened for the words, she realised it was a prayer. 

Then the graves were filled. 

Hyeju found two large stones and put them at the head. 

They stood there, looking at the freshly dug earth. 

“I’m sorry for earlier.” Jungeun put a hand over Hyeju’s arm. “Thank you for helping me.” And then she was walking away. 

Jinsoul watched after her.

“She’ll want to be alone today,” Hyeju said. “Tomorrow you can ask her.” 

“Has this happened before?” 

“This is the second time she’s actually raised it with the others,” Chaewon replied. “The rest of the times we snuck the food in for them.” 

Jinsoul looked back at the bodies. “And buried them?” 

“We never got the doors opened.” Hyeju shrugged. “So they had to be there in that cage with the dead until they started smelling too much.”

Jinsoul thought of the borderline rage in Jungeun’s eyes.  How Hyeju had held her back. 

Their right. 

______

Jungeun woke up, her body tired. She walked to the end of the tent, attaching her sword to her waist. 

“Jungeun?” a whisper. 

She looked only to see Jinsoul sitting at the end of her bed. There was still dirt on her legs and arms. 

Had Jinsoul been waiting?

“Do you want something to eat?” Jinsoul stood up. 

“Eat?” Jungeun repeated. 

“I managed to get some of today’s eggs before they ran out,” Jinsoul replied. “Do you want one and a half?” She smiled sheepishly. “I was planning for three, but Hyeju stole some.” Then she was walking past her and out of the tent. 

Jungeun followed, momentarily blinded by the weak morning sun. 

“Where are the others?” 

“Cleaning up,” Jinsoul said. “They said they’d try the river.” 

Jungeun snorted. “I can see why you didn’t go with them.” 

Jinsoul looked almost startled for a second, before she nodded. 

They both sat down and Jinsoul handed her a plate. 

Jungeun ate, before pausing. “Salt?” She lifted a brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hiding a stock of it.” 

Jinsoul looked back at her. “I told them to take it off my wages,” she replied. “If that counts for anything.” She looked down, a glimmer of embarrassment there. 

She laughed. “It counts for the thought,” she said. “I just won’t think about your wealth.” She kept eating. 

Jinsoul smiled slightly. 

Jungeun wondered if she’d ask about yesterday. She wondered if she’d see what had happened as a measure for her treatment of her superiors. Jinsoul would one day command the army. She wondered if the thoughts of who’d be loyal to her and not were already in her head or if that would come later. 

A part of her doubted that, but she couldn’t know for certain. 

Then again—

Jungeun stopped eating. “What would you do?” 

Jinsoul looked at her for a moment. Then understanding entered her gaze. “About the soldiers?” she asked. “Or you?” 

“The soldiers,” Jungeun said. “The prisoners.” 

Her brow furrowed and she looked to the fire. “If they wouldn’t be sent to the Colosseum, they would become slaves,” she said. “If they wouldn’t die in the arena, then they would die as slaves.” She sighed. “But if we don’t send them anywhere, they’d be executed.” 

“Do they have to die?”

“Would you let them go only for them to come back to where the camp is?” The words weren’t harsh and they weren’t defensive, but Jungeun still felt a retort bubble up in . She pushed them down. 

“If I were a prisoner,” Jungeun said. “I would pray for that to happen to me and I wouldn’t turn around and try to betray them.”

“But if you were asked to show the army where the camp is?” Jinsoul asked. “If you could try and weaken the other army before they try to retaliate again? Before they kill more of our own?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what the right answer would be. I don’t know if I’m supposed to think of the consequences or just whether or not the act is right.” 

“Mercy is a Roman virtue.”

“And so is duty,” Jinsoul replied. “What sort of ruler would I be if my mercy caused the death and grief of my own people?” She almost looked as if Jungeun was supposed to have the answer. 

“I don’t know,” Jungeun admitted. “But are we supposed to kill people just because they’re our enemy?” She knew she was overstepping. Rome would always have its army. Jungeun would be in that army until she died. She would kill for Rome when she was sent into battle, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t question it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try and see what Jinsoul thought of the death Rome had always caused and would continue to be the reason for. 

“I’ve never had to order the deaths of people,” Jinsoul said slowly. “But I’ve killed them now. I don’t know how it will feel later when thousands are killed in my name.” 

“You ignore it?”

Jinsoul frowned and Jungeun wondered if she’d gone too far. 

“What would be better?” Jinsoul asked. “Knowing how every day there are people at our borders and they’re shot down if they come near? Knowing there are those that starve because neither the money nor the food will reach them in time? That my armies will need campaigns so its soldiers and their families are fed?” 

Jungeun didn’t answer that. They'd both killed now and they'd both seen the deaths of both sides. Maybe Jinsoul hadn't come here for that, but she'd seen it.

“Because I don’t know.” Jinsoul sounded distant. “If I’m conscious of it, I’ll be crippled by the knowledge. If I ignore it, I’m merciless. Cruel.” Her brow furrowed. “Even if I do it unconsciously.”

“And ignoring so you don’t collapse from the weight of it?” Jungeun asked. “The way we’re supposed to treat their soldiers. To treat the prisoners after?” She shook her head. “You don’t have to face the full force of it.” She shrugged once. “I don’t either. We couldn’t be here.” 

Jinsoul nodded once. She was looking at something. 

Jungeun followed her gaze. She was looking at Jungeun’s sword. Jungeun had told her it was her father’s. After he’d died, she’d taken it. There’d been money too, but she’d barely used it as the years had gone unless it was for new armour or to keep the sword in as good a condition as it had been when he’d wielded it. 

“You think that’s what your father did too?” Jinsoul asked. She looked back at her. “Can I ask that?”

Jungeun nodded again. “He must have,” she said. “He didn’t leave them in the camp this long. Usually they were sent away days before they do it here.” She sighed. “But it’s still sending them back. He still went into battle each time, fighting whoever they were sent to conquer just like we are.” 

Jinsoul was just listening now. She didn’t look like she was going to say anything yet. 

“You can’t do this without shutting it out somehow. Otherwise it gets worse even faster than it should. Otherwise you try to leave.”

“Deserters.” 

Jungeun decided then not to say much to that. With how she was already criticising the Roman laws with its war prisoners, any talk of deserters, where would that put her? 

“Mercy or duty?” Jinsoul asked then. “What would you choose there?” 

Jungeun looked away. Her answer would have to be clear enough, wouldn’t it? She wasn’t so much of a hypocrite to think otherwise. 

“Mercy,” Jinsoul said. “Why kill them when you’ve already forced them away from duty?” 

She looked up at that only to see that Jinsoul wasn’t looking at her either. She was looking at her hands. 

______

The fighting continued. The war was won. Then the training resumed. 

Jungeun and Jinsoul sparred when they could break from their other training regimens. They snuck away in the night sometimes or took guard duty together. For Jinsoul she wanted to talk to Jungeun without every other person in the camp trying to listen to what she said and for Jungeun it was so Jinsoul wouldn’t have to try and hide behind propriety around the rest. They didn’t realise they ended up having it without those moments, at meals, the celebrations, training throughout the day. 

Jinsoul came to meet Hyeju and Chaewon properly too. They’d been surprised at how much time Jungeun had spent with her, but even more so at how quickly they themselves came to like Jinsoul. 

At one point, Hyeju challenged Jinsoul to a sparring match in which she nearly broke Jinsoul’s nose and spent the better part of an hour near tears. A part of it was worrying she’d be a fugitive in Rome, the other was because Jinsoul was clearly fighting tears even if she was telling her she was alright. 

And once Jinsoul had caught Hyeju sniffling and immediately start fretting over her, telling her over and over again that she wasn’t angry and that there was no chance in any way that this would get back to Rome. 

There had been several back and forths since then, going from immense caution to tentative banter and outright teasing. Someone actually did break their nose, but it was Chaewon who’d tripped over Jungeun’s leg while she was charging forward to attack her. Jungeun had apologised once, before Chaewon had tripped her as well. 

A year ended up passing. Jinsoul didn’t leave, not even after her second time fighting for one of the campaigns. That was harder for all of them. They lost familiar faces and they’d almost lost, the number of casualties almost being as high as that of survivors. All of them had needed to be there to gather the bodies. They’d all had nightmares after that and chosen to stay in one tent as four, both to make sure they weren’t alone when they woke up, but also just to have others close. People who were alive. People they trusted. 

Jungeun had almost been surprised at how fast she’d grown to see Jinsoul as someone she could trust. With where she’d come from, what she’d spent her life doing, it was strange when Jungeun started to think that those things didn’t matter. The problem was that they did. Several had gone on leave to see their family and that included Jinsoul. Going back to Rome, to the streets devoid of any poverty and to her father again, the emperor. 

It was surprisingly easy to forget who Jinsoul was and Jungeun almost regretted falling into the illusion. 

Jungeun looked down at her sword. She then started to swipe at the air, falling into a training regimen she’d learned as a little girl. The blade was lighter than it had ever been then. It was perfect for any motion and she thought of her father at times like these, watching her stance. She remembered how he'd smiled when she'd finished it without a mistake. She remembered how it had been one of the proudest moments of her life then.

And the air was cold from the winter. She wanted to get warm. 

It wasn’t an illusion. It was only the person Jinsoul was outside of Rome, having tried to leave that behind her while she was here. 

She changed to a more offensive set of movements. 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to go for a swim?” Hyeju asked. She was holding a bowl of steaming stew. She also didn’t have anywhere to go. 

“It’s close to freezing over,” Jungeun said. 

She shrugged. “It’d definitely wake me up.” 

“And then you’d either freeze or be stuck with a cold I have to treat.”

Hyeju wrinkled her nose. “You’re a terrible healer.”

“So go sit by the fire,” Jungeun replied. “Or join me.”

Hyeju sat down by the fire. “We’re technically on leave too.”

“And this isn’t training,” she rolled her eyes, slashing the sword through the cold air, “it’s just to get warm.” She swung the sword quicker, wanting to get a burn in her muscles. She hadn’t been training as much in the last days, actually trying to rest, but she started feeling restless each time the holidays came around. There were still enough members of the army around and some of them were trained, but Gaius made it a point for them to rest at times like these. 

She kept going, her mind clearing finally. She found an ease in the motions, one that she could only really have when the rest weren’t there. When there wasn’t the risk of having too many watch or question what she was doing. 

Hyeju did actually end up joining her, but to use the bow and shoot at the straw target. 

They were both silent, occasionally nodding or saying hello to those who were still around. 

And then there were the clops of hooves. 

Jungeun looked immediately to see if there was a horse running towards or past them. Sometimes that happened. 

A horse was coming their way, but someone was on it. Someone coming back from their holidays already? It must’ve been only a week, maybe a bit less. She’d not counted the days. 

Jungeun started to fall back into another stance. 

“I think there’s royalty on the way,” Hyeju said. 

Jungeun froze. 

She heard the horse come to a stop. 

Jungeun looked over then and she nearly dropped her sword. 

“Hi.” Jinsoul smiled from atop the horse. She looked so different from how she had when she was here before. She wore light armour, but it was still embroidered on the edge with gold and laurels at the shoulders. 

“Did you come alone?” Hyeju asked. 

She shook her head. “The guards were with me for almost all of the way before I sent them back.” 

“Rome too boring?” Hyeju went over to the horse and gently its fur. 

“I just wanted to be back here,” Jinsoul replied. She dismounted and then pulled Hyeju in for a hug. 

“You’re cold,” Hyeju grumbled, but she hugged her back. 

“That’s what riding in winter will do.” Jinsoul chuckled before pulling away. Then she was turning to Jungeun. 

Her mind was overtaken then by how beautiful Jinsoul was. A part of her had almost forgotten, but the other had remembered so many things, from the angle of her jaw to the way her eyes were almost always so warm. They were now too. 

She saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. 

And then Jinsoul was coming closer to her. Jungeun felt her face warm. 

She pulled her into her arms, but there was caution in the movement. 

The last time they’d been this close had been after the last battle, the relief of being alive, of the other person being alive. 

Now it was quiet. There wasn’t a reason except for Jinsoul’s return. 

“Is it okay that I’m here?” Jinsoul whispered. She tightened her grip around her shoulders. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I wasn’t sure.” Jinsoul pulled away. She was chewing on her lip. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jungeun told her. She meant it too. 

Jinsoul smiled. 

Jungeun realised she was looking at her for too long then. She looked away, focusing instead on the threads of gold woven into her shoulder. 

And then Hyeju was asking Jinsoul if she was hungry. 

Jinsoul let go of her, met her eyes once, before going to where Hyeju was. That left Jungeun to watch as Hyeju and her discussed what they’d have for dinner. 

______

Jungeun woke to a hand on her shoulder. She jumped. 

“It’s okay!” Jinsoul whispered. “Just me.” 

She gave her a look. “I don’t think I want to know how late it is.” 

“I had night training, you knew that.” Just by the way she sounded, she knew Jinsoul was pouting. 

“And you’re still late.” Jungeun sat up, but Jinsoul barely moved away. Suddenly she was too close even in the darkness. She could see her eyes too and how they moved, looking somewhere else. Then she finally leaned back. 

“Sorry,” Jinsoul muttered. “I wanted to be here an hour ago.” She was starting to sound genuinely disappointed. 

“It’s okay,” Jungeun reached out and squeezed her arm, “I wasn’t going to sleep well anyway.” 

Jinsoul was pulling her out of bed then.

“What are,” she started. 

“I made tea.” Jinsoul tugged her out the tent and passed the other sleeping figures. 

“I don’t have any shoes on.” 

“As if you don’t prefer walking barefoot.”

There was a fire a few metres away. There was a pot next to it. 

When they reached it, she saw there were indeed tea leaves inside. 

“I’m not sure how much they’d approve of using water and the leaves for your own use like this.”

“I’m sharing, aren’t I?” Jinsoul waggled her eyebrows. 

Jungeun rolled her eyes and Jinsoul pulled her closer to the fire. She fished out the tea leaves before pouring two cups, pressing one into her hand. 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

Jinsoul sent her a glare. It was far from threatening. 

Jungeun grinned back.

She sat down next to her, arm brushing hers. “I think my back will feel terrible tomorrow.” She took a sip.

“Not your arms?”

“I’m used to them hurting now,” Jinsoul flexed one, “but they’re looking better, right?”

Jungeun squeezed the muscle there. “A little soft still.” 

She pouted fully now. 

“But a lot better,” Jungeun added. “I can see it too.” She let go of her arm. 

Jinsoul poked her arm then. She did it a second time. 

She just looked at her. “What?” 

She did it again. “It’s not my fault your arms are halfway to stone.” 

Jungeun chuckled. “They’re not that well trained.”

Jinsoul shrugged and poked her waist. 

She leaned away. 

“Ticklish?” Jinsoul lifted a brow. “Good to know.”

“Good to know?” 

“For the next duel,” Jinsoul smiled at her, “another way I’ll get you this time.” She tickled her side. 

Jungeun batted away her hands. “I doubt it.” Her ears were burning. 

She just shrugged. “I’ll accept the challenge.” She went back to her tea. The firelight caught in her eyes. 

Jungeun found herself staring. 

“Drink your tea,” Jinsoul muttered. She was looking at the ground. 

Jungeun did. She was stuck between looking at the fire and the person beside her. 

“Stop it,” Jinsoul said. 

“Stop what?” 

“Looking at me like that.” She peeked up at her. 

Jungeun looked down at her cup. Her face burned even more. “Sorry,” she muttered. She felt a flicker of that fear she had when she’d first met Jinsoul, unsure who she was, what she could do. 

“Don’t be.” A hand took one of hers then. “I’m just,” she paused, “nervous.” 

“About?” Jungeun thought of how red her face would be. Jinsoul looked calm. 

“You.”

Jungeun looked up at that. “Me?”

Jinsoul didn’t reply. Her eyes fell away again. “I,” she started. Then she shook her head. “I can’t explain it.” 

Jungeun felt then as if they’d stepped onto a very different conversation. A part of her knew it wasn’t going to be one she didn’t like.

“Are you sure you can’t?” Jungeun asked. “Or you don’t want to?” 

“I’m not sure if I should.” 

She reached over and took her hand with her free one. “That’s okay.” 

Jinsoul’s eyes were on their hands. 

“I think I know what you want to say,” Jungeun said. 

She looked at her. “Really?” 

Jungeun nodded. If she’d misunderstood, she could so easily say the wrong thing. She wasn’t scared of Jinsoul and maybe that was a mistake, but she’d never seen anything for her to think she’d turn on her. At least not so quickly. 

She squeezed Jinsoul’s hand. She drank her tea with her other one. Maybe that would show Jinsoul she had the chance to just not say anything else. 

“There are men here who would want nothing more than my hand,” Jinsoul said, looking again at their hands. “I wouldn’t pay mind to any of them.” She met her eyes then, almost pleading. Silently asking her to understand what she was saying without the words having to be said aloud. 

“Neither would I,” Jungeun replied. “Or any man.” 

Jinsoul’s eyes widened ever so slightly. 

She felt her face warm again so she looked away. Had she just said something too forward? Had she missed the point Jinsoul was trying to make? 

Jinsoul hadn’t pulled her hand away. Was she still thinking over what Jungeun had said? Was she trying to find a way to get out of this without insulting her? 

“Look at me?” Jinsoul’s voice was gentle. 

Jungeun did. Jinsoul smiled back at her. 

“I’m nervous about you for a reason,” she said. “Do I have to say that a little clearer?” 

Her face still felt so warm. “I don’t think so?”

Jinsoul’s smile grew more. “Good.” She squeezed her hand, before letting go. 

______

It was a quiet day, one where they’d been told to rest. 

Jinsoul had asked if they could take a walk through the forest. 

Jungeun had agreed, almost too quickly, but it hadn’t seemed like Jinsoul had minded that. If anything, it’d looked like it’d made her happier. 

Now they walked together. Jinsoul was asking her about the places she wanted to go if she could. 

“I don’t know,” Jungeun admitted. “Rome again? Haven’t been there for a few years.” 

Jinsoul stared at her. “Do you never leave here?”

“When the camp does.”

Jinsoul stuck out her tongue. “I mean somewhere other than with the army.” 

Jungeun shrugged. “I don’t really need to leave here,” she said. “So I don’t.” 

She pursed her lips. 

“What?” 

Jinsoul looked away. “Nothing,” she muttered.

Jungeun stopped walking and turned to her. 

She froze, almost as if caught. 

“Jinsoul?” 

Jinsoul bit her lip. “Well,” she started, “I just thought that, maybe—and I really mean maybe—you could come see—come with me.”

“With you,” Jungeun repeated. 

“To Rome?” Jinsoul still wasn’t looking at her. 

“With you.” 

She laughed, looking away. “Yeah?” She scratched at her neck. “Yeah, with me.” 

Jungeun smiled. “I might.” 

Jinsoul’s brow shot up. “Really?” 

“Maybe.” 

And then Jinsoul pouted. “Wait,” she started. “Just a—“ 

“Yes,” Jungeun told her. 

“Yes what,” Jinsoul lifted her hand, carefully reaching for hers, “to a maybe or you’ll really leave the camp next time?”

“Yes I’ll come with you,” she replied. 

In the next moment, Jinsoul was beaming. She pulled her into a tight hug. 

Jungeun nearly didn’t know what to do. They’d hugged before, this wasn’t supposed to be different. 

“I’m happy you want to come,” Jinsoul said quietly. “I miss you when I’m gone.”

She felt the blood rush to her face. “I miss you too.” 

Jinsoul pulled away and Jungeun felt her breath catch. She just looked at her, smiling slowly. 

The only thing Jungeun could think of then was how beautiful her smile was. She liked being one of the reasons it was there. 

______

Jungeun couldn’t stay still. She also wasn’t allowed to leave the camp, which didn’t help. She could just watch the edges that she could see and when she saw nothing, she’d walk to the other side and watch. 

There’d been an ambush on the way between moving camps and they’d arrived with a quarter of the regiment missing. Not a large group, but still enough for Gaius to give the order to retreat. 

They’d come in smaller groups, having scattered from the ambush. Jungeun had gotten away fairly unscathed, only with a gash along her back, but it hadn’t hurt anything major. 

But Jinsoul wasn’t back yet. 

She wasn’t the only one restless. Gaius looked close to terrified. If the daughter of the emperor disappeared, especially on a retreat that he’d called for, then he’d have the full responsibility. It wouldn’t matter how much anyone defended the decision. He was organising search parties. Not just for Jinsoul, but all of them. It was all going too slow. 

Hyeju and Chaewon’s were on one side and they told her when she came there if they’d seen any other soldiers come back. 

At one point, Jungeun had made herself stop walking. Her back hurt with the wrong movements. She shouldn’t have been this worried. Whoever was emperor or not and who their heir was didn’t matter to her. She might’ve been beaten for the thought, but it was still true. 

But this was Jinsoul. Here she wasn’t the emperor’s daughter. She wasn’t the future ruler of Rome. She was a soldier. 

A soldier who might not come home. 

Jungeun had kept walking. 

Now she was seeing people looking somewhere else. She heard them saying they were back. 

Jungeun went where they were going immediately. A part of her knew people would be looking at her. They’d notice. 

She saw how people were being carried back and she felt cold. How bad had the ambush gotten? They’d just run, disorganised, panicked. They should’ve been able to fight back. They would’ve avoided most of this. 

Jungeun looked to see which faces she recognised. There were some and she went to the ones who were closest to her. Most weren’t hurt, but one had an ugly cut along their upper though. They were being supported by Heejin, also still not completely stable on her feet even now. 

Jungeun went to the girl’s other side. She grit her teeth as the movement pulled at her back. 

“How bad did it get?” Jungeun asked, feeling a flicker of shame that she hadn’t just turned back. 

“Not that bad,” Heejin replied. “There weren’t as many as we thought, but I think we lost five.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was better you left,” the one they were carrying said, her voice strained. “We weren’t prepared for it at all.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Jungeun felt the tears pricking at the edge of her eyes. The pain in her back was back in full force. “I wish I’d been there.”

“And I’m glad you weren’t,” Heejin replied. “Let go of her, I’ll manage.” She gave her a pointed look from behind the girl. “You’re already hurt.”

Jungeun stared at her for a long moment. 

And then the girl was lightly pushing her away. “We managed all this way. We will now too.” 

Jungeun tried to stand in a way that didn’t hurt. Or at least hurt less. “Okay.” 

Heejin nodded once. “She’s alright,” she said then. “Wasn’t too far behind us.” Then they were walking away. 

Jungeun looked to the rest. A part of her wondered why Heejin would say that. 

And then she saw her. She was limping, but standing on her own. She was holding her arm. 

Jungeun’s feet were moving in the next moment. 

Jinsoul met her eyes and she knew she wasn’t imagining the relief there. 

And then she was in front of her. 

“Where were you?” Jungeun asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “You were right there when it happened, you—” 

“I’m fine,” Jinsoul stammered, “I was just—“

Jungeun pulled her into her arms. She was alive. She was okay. 

She slipped her arms around her waist.

In the back of her mind, Jungeun wondered if this was inappropriate. It was, but that didn’t matter. 

“It’s okay,” Jungeun said. Would this make it better or worse? “I was just scared.” 

Jinsoul pulled away. Her brow was furrowed. 

“Why would you be scared?” 

“I was worried about you,” Jungeun admitted. Then she realised properly where they were, that people could be watching, and who Jinsoul actually was. 

Jungeun pulled her arms away completely and gently stepped out of Jinsoul’s. “But you’re here,” she said quickly, “you’re okay.” 

Jinsoul was looking at her, more confusion coming in. 

Jungeun just took a step back. “Are you hurt?” 

Jinsoul shook her head. “A few cuts.” 

“And there.” Jungeun pointed to her ankle. She wasn’t standing on it. “Get something bound around it.” She then turned around and walked away. She could feel Jinsoul looking after her. 

Jungeun’s ears were burning. What had she been thinking?

______

Jinsoul found her at the edge of camp, watching the forest. It had been a few days since what had happened. She’d barely seen her. 

Jungeun looked up and met her eyes once, before looking down again. “Should you be walking?” She turned back to the forest. 

“I have a splint over it,” she said. “Can I join you?” 

Jungeun looked at the place next to her and didn’t respond for a few moments. They felt long. “Of course.” 

Jinsoul sat down, making sure she was facing Jungeun. “Is something wrong?” 

She shook her head. “Just tired.”

Jinsoul put a hand over her arm. 

Jungeun jumped.

“I can take over watch then.” 

Jungeun shook her head again. “You should be the one resting.” 

“I’m not tired.” 

Jungeun smiled ever so slightly, but it was strained. “But you don’t have to take watch,” she said. “Just relax.”

“You could just say you don’t want me here,” Jinsoul said. 

She looked at her then and frowned. “Why say that?” Her eyes fell away again. 

“You’re trying to send me away,” she replied. “And you’re acting like this.” 

Jungeun’s frown deepened, but she didn’t look at her this time. 

“Jungeun.” She squeezed her arm once. “Did I do something wrong?” 

She just shook her head. 

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

She looked at her. Jinsoul held her gaze and she could see the uncertainty come back into Jungeun's eyes. 

“I don’t know if,” Jungeun started, before sighing. She closed her eyes now. “I don’t know.” 

“Know what?” 

“If what I’m doing is right.” 

Jinsoul frowned. "Right?" she repeated. "And that's why you don't want to look at me?"

Jungeun shrugged once. 

It clicked then. “Is this about what I said?” What we both did?

“What I said,” Jungeun replied. “The way I act, the way I—“ She clenched her jaw. “The way I feel.” 

She felt something lighten in her heart. She didn’t say anything.

“That’s not—it isn’t,” Jungeun sighed, “it’s too easy to forget who you are here. Who you’ll be.”

Jinsoul knew what that meant. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she replied. “One day you’ll leave for Rome again and you’ll stay there. I’ll be in the army.” 

“There are soldiers who come back to Rome,” Jinsoul said. “It’s not forever.”

“I only have this,” Jungeun said. “This is my home. It’s what I’ll always come back to.” 

“Then I’ll come here.”

Jungeun’s brow furrowed. “ I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” 

It was quiet. 

Jungeun was still looking into the distance. 

“That’s why I come back sooner,” Jinsoul continued. “That’s why I want you to come with me to Rome for one of the visits.” 

“Jinsoul,” she started. 

“I want to be around you,” she moved to kneel in front of her, “with you.” 

Jungeun finally met her eyes. Jinsoul knew she wouldn’t be able to look away. She just hoped Jungeun wouldn’t either. 

“But if you don’t want me there, I—“

“I want you there,” Jungeun cut her off. “Here.” 

Jinsoul stared at her. 

“With me,” she finished. Doubt came again. “But—“ She shook her head. “Jinsoul, I’m going to be in the army for the rest of my life.” Her eyes shuttered. “I don’t know for how—“

“Don’t say that,” Jinsoul moved forward, lifting her hands to her arms, “it could happen to anyone or none of us.” 

“I know,” Jungeun replied. “But one of us is going back to Rome. One of us will rule the empire.” She smiled slightly. “You’ll be a lot more than my general and that’d already be inappropriate.” 

“And now?”

“You’re still more than Gaius.” 

“I’d hope so.” Jinsoul smiled. 

Jungeun laughed softly. She held her gaze, her eyes softening. Finally. 

_____

Jinsoul's nervousness around Jungeun had gotten stronger. Even more now that she wasn't avoiding her. Especially when she was looking at her. 

They were sparring again. They'd started doing it a bit further away from camp. Jinsoul had had to reassure Gaius that it was completely safe. She knew he'd be tempted to have guards around, even if she was with Jungeun, but she'd told him not to. 

She didn't know if it was a mistake to stray so close without anyone near. When others were there, she stopped herself from reaching out. 

But now, with Jungeun beside her, drinking from her waterskin, smiling to herself, Jinsoul found herself moving. 

Jungeun caught her eye and put the cap back on the waterskin. Her brow rose slightly. 

Jinsoul reached for her other hand, taking it off the hilt of the sword. 

Jungeun was watching her. 

“Can I,” Jinsoul leaned forward a bit more, “is this—“ She broke off. She was nervous again. 

“What is?” Jungeun was still looking at her. She wasn’t moving away. 

“I want to kiss you,” Jinsoul said. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded. 

She leaned in. 

Jungeun kissed her back immediately, a hand coming to cup her face. 

Jinsoul felt a relief she couldn’t describe, but she loved it. 

They stayed there. Jinsoul didn’t want to pull away and she knew Jungeun didn’t either, but she knew she didn’t like to be watched. She didn’t want the others to know either. Not when it could be turned against Jungeun. 

She slowly pulled back. Jungeun moved with her. Then she stopped. 

When Jinsoul opened her eyes, she saw that Jungeun’s were slowly opening too. 

They both smiled. 

______

Months passed. Months of stealing kisses, trying to find the time for more, and escaping the eyes of the rest. Some knew, but they were only the closest to them. It was hard not to see if you knew one well. 

It had been clear that a love had been blooming before, but it was barely held down in their eyes after. 

And it was love. Jinsoul hadn’t focused on the feeling long enough to truly realise what it was, while Jungeun had known, but not said it. Still, they were young, unsure, with one who pushed thoughts of the future away, while the other’s mind was stuck there, wondering what the world would look like for them in a year, maybe two. 

Jinsoul did manage to get Jungeun to go to Rome with her. Heejin, Hyunjin, another who'd been wounded in battle, Chaewon, and Hyeju were with them. 

It hadn’t been hard to see Jungeun’s own reservations about going to the capital. She’d been quiet on the way, having a few moments where she asked Jinsoul questions, joined in on one of the others’ jokes, before falling into a silence. Jinsoul had learned that it was the one where Jungeun was drifting in her thoughts. Usually nothing pointed, but still one that wasn’t completely without nervousness or uncertainty. 

Jinsoul had wanted to ask her then why, but Jungeun didn’t say the full thing when there were others there, or at least when the others were so excited now to go to Rome. Chaewon had never been there before, Hyunjin had been wanting to go back for a year now, and Hyeju hadn’t been there since she was a child. Second to Jungeun, Heejin was the most quiet, her home being in Constantinople and not Rome, also with her having been to Rome while her father, a merchant, had gone between the cities. 

When they stopped to camp, the ones who took watch were the guards her father had sent to get her. Jinsoul had had to urge the rest to go to sleep, including Jungeun who’d wanted to try and find one place that the guards were going to miss when they guarded their camp site. 

She’d done it again now too. They were only a day’s journey away now. 

Jungeun lay down beside her, still tense. 

“Are you worried?” Jinsoul asked. She put an arm around her. 

Jungeun moved closer. “No.”

She gave her a look. 

“It was a dream,” Jungeun said quietly. She looked up to the ceiling of the tent. “Just a dream.” 

Jinsoul lifted a hand to her cheek. “Nightmare?” 

She nodded once.

Jinsoul waited. 

“There’s blood,” Jungeun whispered. “I don’t know who’s it is, but you’re crying. I don’t see anyone else and it feels like you’re the one that’s hurt.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t hear anything. I can’t feel anything. The only I can see is that—you.” Her brow furrowed. “But I wake up and I’m scared.” 

“It was a nightmare,” Jinsoul said. “But just a dream.” She pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “When was it?” 

“After we left,” she replied. “And yesterday again.” 

“The same?” 

Jungeun nodded. “I’m still scared.” She moved so her head went to her shoulder, almost hiding there. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

“Nothing will,” Jinsoul said. 

“You can’t promise that.” Jungeun pulled her closer. “You can’t ever know. Neither can I.” 

“But we can be careful,” Jinsoul replied. “I’ll be careful.” 

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter.” Her voice was so much quieter. It didn’t take much thought to know what that meant. Her father, the others they’d lost during battles, but it wasn’t just the effects of war. Jinsoul knew Jungeun was talking about when emperors had been murdered. There had been plots against her father too. 

“I know.”

“The last time I was in Rome was with my father,” Jungeun said against her shoulder. “And then when we came back—” She broke off. 

“We don’t have to go.” Jinsoul ran a hand through her hair. “I wouldn’t mind that.” 

“I want to go.” She pulled away now, looking at her. Her eyes were teary. “The dreams might be there because of that,” she said. “But that was years ago.” 

A part of Jinsoul knew Jungeun was just saying this to make it seem like the dream meant nothing. That she wasn’t supposed to be afraid, but Jinsoul knew that would stay in the back of her mind. 

“And it still happened,” Jinsoul said. “Maybe it could now, we don’t know. I never know if something could happen to my father when I’m not there, but he has his guards. He has more now too. It’s all he can do.” She kissed her cheek. “And it’s what I’ll do when we’re there too. Do you and the others need any guards?” 

Jungeun shook her head.

“The dream could have been a warning for you too,” Jinsoul told her. “What if—”

“We won’t go off by ourselves,” Jungeun replied. “It’s you I’m worried about.” 

“And you’re the ones I worry about.” 

Jungeun looked at her for a long moment. Then her gaze fell. “We’re all born with enemies,” she said. “Everyone in Rome has enemies outside of it, but some are born with them inside its borders.” Her brow furrowed. “You’re one of them.” 

“So is my father,” Jinsoul nodded, “and most, if not all, of the senators. Also the ones who have to come under the mercy of the black market and other criminals there too.” 

“But you’re the one who matters the most to me.” 

Jinsoul didn’t know what to say to that. She could only look at her. 

And then Jungeun was leaning in. 

“Just be careful,” she whispered. “Please, be careful.” 

“I will.” Jinsoul let herself be pushed onto her back. “I promise.” 

Jungeun kissed her. 

______

More prisoners. 

Jungeun had volunteered to guard them first. Jinsoul was with her. They’d gotten them fresh water and slipped in half of their meals among the four. 

She was coming back with two cups of tea now. 

Jungeun was sitting at the fire, her fists clenched, but her face blank as she looked into the fire. 

When Jinsoul came closer, her hands relaxed. 

“Are you okay?” Jinsoul sat down beside her and gave her the cup. 

“Fine.” 

Jinsoul nodded once and blew away the steam. She waited. 

“I hate this part more every time,” Jungeun said. “They know what’ll happen to them, but they don’t know what it’ll look like. What it’ll mean.” Her brow furrowed. “They don’t know that they’ll let them hope. That they could try to fight for their freedom.” 

“And you volunteer to guard them instead?” 

“It makes this part better at least.” 

Jinsoul tapped her cup. “Drink some.”

She did, but her eyes stayed on the fire. “Isn’t there a better way?” she asked. “A prison sentence?”

“Our prisons are no better than an arena,” Jinsoul said. “And if they survive one day, they’ll still be in a cell after that.” 

“And changing camps? Releasing them only when they can’t follow?”

“How do you control that? How do you know they worn try and follow your tracks after you release them?” 

Jungeun closed her eyes. 

“When did you realise it wasn’t fair?” Jinsoul asked. “The prisoners?” 

“Seven?” She shrugged. “There was a little girl in the cell. Like me.” She opened her eyes again. “What could a child do to us? Why was a child a prisoner of war? Would I be one if we lost a battle?” 

Jinsoul didn’t say anything. 

“So I asked,” Jungeun said. “My father said not to go to the cage again and it was gone the next day.” She snorted once. “He’d sent them off early. Immediately to Rome for the games.” 

“Just so you wouldn’t ask questions?”

“So I wouldn’t see that they’d just be made to sit there. That she’d have to sit there watching as another little girl was on the other side of the bars. Free.” Jungeun’s eyes hardened. “My father tried, but it’s systemic. That’s what we’re supposed to do with the prisoners so that’s what we do. Every single battle. Every campaign.” 

“But what would have to change?” Jinsoul asked. “Trying for negotiations with the survivors? Bargaining their freedom for something else? Taxes? Soldiers? The condition that they all go into exile?”

“I don’t know,” she said sharply. Then she looked at her. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Jinsoul took another sip of her tea and Jungeun followed. “But there has to be another way.”

“There wouldn’t be. Any change you’d try would be blocked by the senate. They’d think you’d be mad to try and change anything. The army wouldn’t listen and probably just execute the prisoners immediately.” Jungeun met her eyes again. “I appreciate you trying to find a solution, but I don’t think there is one.” She shook her head. “And it makes it worse that it can’t be changed.” 

Jinsoul didn’t know what to say this time. She didn’t know if letting Jungeun talk would just make her angrier at what was happening. She didn’t know if she wanted to keep talking about it or to change the subject. 

“The other way would be no more wars,” Jungeun whispered. 

Jinsoul wondered where Jungeun would go then. What she would do. Her entire life had been war. She’d devoted herself to Rome’s wars since she’d picked up the sword. 

“But I know that’s impossible.” She sank further into herself. “What would Rome do without war? How would it grow? How would it stay strong?”

“More trade?” Jinsoul suggested. “Stronger holds in the other territories?”

“And when there’s more rebellions? When other empires try to grow and take what we have without Rome taking their territories before they grow?”

“I don’t know,” Jinsoul admitted. “I wish I did.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I will,” she replied. “One day.”

“But even then, they won’t let you pass something so few would want.” After a moment, Jungeun added, “at least no one important to Rome.” 

______

Coming back to Rome meant there was the celebration to mark Jinsoul’s safe return. She hadn’t realised Rome was in the middle of its games. She hadn’t realised how many would be in the city. 

But her father had organised a guard for all of them, not just her. It was a small relief that Jungeun and the rest didn’t have to walk across the streets, but were in the carriage with her. She knew it didn’t sit well with them, but she would have hated for them to not be there with her. Her father had known that too. 

They were brought to the palace soon enough, but Jinsoul was told she couldn’t go with them to their rooms. She was just brought to her own, bathed and changed. Her eyes were lined with kohl and her lips coloured red. The polished sword fitting of a distinguished general was attached to her waist and then it was time to go to the meals following today’s games. 

She fell into the conversations that needed to be reigned in. The ones where she couldn’t describe what had happened out there, but she also couldn’t leave out details. Not when there were spies in the army, always reporting on what happened. If she lied, they’d think they knew something important, but if she said too much, it would fill the holes of their knowledge. 

Jinsoul missed talking by the fire. She missed being able to enjoy the silence of the night, knowing so few would be listening and even if they were, what those people heard wouldn’t be used against her. 

But she liked when she did see the people there she trusted, even if there were a few. She loved being with her father again, watching as he manoeuvred through the senate there, knowing what to say and what not. She loved being in Rome again. 

It went on for that day and night, then the next and the one after that. She barely saw the others unless it was the morning. They still woke up at the same early morning times and she spent as long as she could in those moments. She’d warned them the first days would mean she was barely there, but she hadn’t known it would include the games. 

Her father had managed to keep her from the past two days, but he’d warned her that would be different tomorrow. 

“Your absence is being felt more and more with each month,” he said at the end of one gather. They were together in a palanquin. Jinsoul still felt full from the meal. It was all just so much. 

Almost too much.

______

Jungeun could only watch as the gladiators fought against the carriages, toppling one or being torn into by the next. 

She heard the crowd shouting for more, cheering for when blood was spilled. She could see the anticipation among each of them. It made her feel sick. 

Jungeun watched another fall to the ground, spasming as the life left him. The gladiators didn't always have to die, but from what she'd heard, if the sponsors allowed it—if they wanted death—they could have it still. 

She heard someone spit on the ground a few rows down. 

Jungeun got to her feet and walked away. The Colosseum was huge. It was hard to get past the people, but she managed it quickly enough. She reached the end exit of the arena and took a deep breath. There were so many people. So many who’d just looked forward to watching people fight animals, fight each other, to the death. 

This was where they sent the prisoners. This was what they were sent back to. 

For the cheers, for the bloodlust of the people, for blood on the sand. 

Her father had accepted it. They had all accepted it. Jungeun had helped put them into the cages. She’d condemned them to this just as the Roman law had. 

Jungeun took a deep breath. What could she do here? What could she do now? 

“The last time you’re watching one?” Chaewon was there. 

Jungeun nodded. 

“Am I a terrible person if I bet on the last match?” She held up a sack of coin. She tossed it her way. 

“You’re terrible if you don’t buy me something with this,” Jungeun replied, throwing it back. “I want a drink.” 

“Should we tell Jinsoul where we are?” Hyeju asked. 

“She’ll have enough to do up there.” Jungeun looked at the immense walls of the Colosseum. It was an incredible structure, but one that housed so much death. So much bloodlust. 

If she never had to step foot in it again, she’d be happy. 

“Come on.” Jungeun turned away and started down the road. She felt so much lighter without the armour. A part of her almost liked being in a place where there were almost no soldiers around her. 

Almost. 

______

Jinsoul opened the door only to see Jungeun on her bed, her eyes closed. When they opened, they widened. 

“Should I have knocked?” Jinsoul asked. She didn’t step in yet. “I thought you’d—”

Jungeun got up and went over to her, nodding once. 

Jinsoul went in and closed the door. 

“Is someone there with you?” Jungeun was looking at her, almost as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. 

“One guard, but I told them to stay further away.” 

“Good,” she smiled slightly, “that’s good.” She looked relieved, but tired. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Jungeun nodded. “Being here,” she laughed softly, “there’s a lot to handle.”

“They told me you left the arena part of the way through?” 

Another nod.

“I hate them,” Jinsoul admitted. “They say this is how the people are kept at bay even more. A reward for the days they live. A distraction.”

“So many love it,” Jungeun said. “The Ludi need it, slaves think they have the chance to be free through the games, gamblers can try their hand, the people are gathered, the pride of Rome shown, and prisoners are executed.” She shook her head. “It won’t be stopped for another century.” 

“It could be a decade.”

Jungeun shook her head. “Don’t make any promises like that yet.” She smiled up at her. “Even if I know you’ll try.” She brushed a piece of her hair away. “You look beautiful,” she said. “Red suits you.” 

Jinsoul looked away. It was a long red tunic, one with a veil that draped across her arms. “I think it would look better on you.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Finery wouldn’t fit me like it does you.” Her hand cupped her face. 

“You’d look better.” Jinsoul started to lean forward. 

“What if this smudges?” Jungeun’s thumb gently prodded her cheek, just beside her lips. 

“That’s okay.” She kissed her once, before pulling away. “Where are the others?”

Jungeun pulled her down for another kiss. “I don’t know.” She moved away to look at her. “Are you alright?” 

Jinsoul looked down. 

“Let’s sit down.” Jungeun pulled away, but took her hand. She walked to one of the beds. 

“Father wants me to leave the army,” Jinsoul said, sitting down. 

Jungeun sat down beside her. Her face was almost unreadable. “What did you say?” 

“No.”

Her brow shot up. “But you—“

“I didn’t leave to come back after barely three years in the army.”

“It’s not about how long you’re there,” Jungeun said. 

Jinsoul looked down at her hands. 

“The army know you’ve fought with us,” she continued, “they know you know what the battlefield is like, what we’ve seen.” She took one of her hands. “They know you’re one of our own.” 

Jinsoul looked up. 

Jungeun smiled at her. “You don’t have to stay to prove something,” she said. “I mean that.” 

“And if I want to stay because I like it out there?”

“Over your city?” she asked. “Your home?” 

The word felt strange to her, but it shouldn’t have. 

“Here there’s some kind of peace,” Jungeun said. “Your father just doesn’t want you in a place of war.” She rubbed her thumb over Jinsoul’s hand. 

“You don’t either, do you?” 

She smiled. “I want you to be the ruler you’ve worked so hard to be.” 

“And you sound like my father.”

Jungeun chuckled. “I think he’s right this time.” 

Jinsoul shook her head. “But what happens then? I stay while you leave?” 

Something flickered in her eyes, before she nodded. 

“Do you want to leave?” Jinsoul asked. 

Jungeun looked away. 

Jinsoul lifted a hand to her cheek, turning her head. “Do you want me to stay?” 

Jungeun didn’t respond, but she met her eyes. 

“I want you to stay,” Jinsoul said. “And I want to go back with you.”

Her eyes were welling up with tears. 

Jinsoul’s own eyes started to burn. 

“But I’d come back,” Jungeun said. “When I go to the camps, I’ll come back.”

“Would you want too?” Jinsoul asked. “Rome isn’t your home.” 

“Neither is the camp,” she replied. “Not really.” Her eyes grew distant. 

“And what if I just went back with you?” 

Another small laugh. “I couldn’t stop you,” Jungeun shrugged, “and you didn’t really leave with the emperor’s blessing either did you?”

Jinsoul didn’t say anything to that and Jungeun laughed again. Then she pursed her lips. 

“You didn’t say the other option,” she said, lifting a brow. “You never asked me if I’d leave the army.” 

“I don’t think you’d want to,” Jinsoul replied. She wished Jungeun would leave, but there was more holding her there than Jinsoul could see and probably understand. 

Jungeun looked at her for a few seconds. Then she looked away again, defeat plain in her eyes. 

She’d been right. 

“You’d want me to,” Jungeun said quietly. 

Jinsoul pulled her into her arms. “I’m not asking you to.” 

She sank into her side. She didn’t cry, but Jinsoul knew she felt the same things she did. 

Jinsoul was the one who cried. 

Then it was Jungeun who held her. 

______

Jinsoul,

 

Sorry I haven’t written in so long. We’ve walked for a week and haven’t gotten there yet. They needed a break. We all did, and now I’m by the fire. Hyeju and Chaewon are on guard, said I didn’t have to be with them. 

 

How are the senate meetings? I know you hate them, but it’ll help you prepare for later. Extended training (make sure you do some too to help). 

 

I miss you. I know it’ll be months before I see you again, but that makes me miss you more. It’s quiet out here. You’d be here with me I know. I’ll burn the corner of the letter in the flame. This is the message. 

 

I love you. 

______

Jungeun, 

 

 

Stay safe. I think you’ll be at there by now. Maybe you’ve taken it by now. Maybe you’re writing to me now. I ho

 

The senate wants to move on again. They need the next one. I don’t know where yet, but we’ll see. 

 

I want to come see you again, but I don’t know when. There’s a lot I need to work for in this year in and near the city. I don’t know. I don’t want to ask you to go that long journey. 

 

I wish I’d been there with you. I have a candle next to me. Maybe that’s enough. 

 

I love you too. So much. 

 

 

The paper at the bottom corner was torn as well. Jungeun smiled. 

She’d also burned a message. 

______

Jinsoul, 

 

The region is won. Not all of us, but they’re saying we can come back. Hyeju and Chaewon want to stay here. I’m going back to the camp with them, but they’ll let me ride back with a few others. That’ll be a month from now. 

 

I don’t know how long I’ll be in Rome or even if I’ll get there before the next campaign starts. I’ll go, but I want to see you first. Maybe it might just be when you address the people or in the arena if there’s any games or plays, but I missed you so much. 

 

You know what message I’ll burn. 

______

Riding for a long time hurt, but the closer she got to Rome, the more her excitement grew. 

A part of her didn’t even know if Jinsoul would be able to see her for long at all. The other wondered if Jinsoul still—

Jungeun tried to push the thought down. There would be talk of marriage if there wasn’t already that. The emperor didn’t want Jinsoul to rule alone and he would’ve been looking for an alliance that would benefit her in the future. 

And maybe Jinsoul had seen someone else. Mo