His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"Life always begins with one step outside of your comfort zone." - Shannon L. Alder
•
Gods, this is insufferable.
Valen hasn't spoken a word in two hours and his eyes haven't left the pages of his journal, which remains obscured by the metal table. Alia has been educating him on Bertraim's father for the past forty-five minutes and it couldn't be clearer that Valen did not care for the two men, but this is all she prepared for and, quite frankly, she doesn't know what else to talk about. The other backup topics she listed are useless as they still relate to the two Kings.
She should have prepared better.
In an effort to distract herself, Alia has taken to staring down at the pages of her opened notebook and textbooks, unwilling to look up and register Valen's quiet presence.
"That's how Rykar created the mandatory enlistment forms that used to be sent to every guy above the age of eighteen. Currently, men are chosen to join the Warriors based on their own, individual training. They're scouted by Commanders of the Throne and forced to train under them, and with Bertraim being how he is, the threat of war has been building up within the Pack of Vasileís for a few years now, so the more Warriors, the better. Sure, the enlistment forms aren't a thing anymore, but the punishment is still the same if they refuse. Months, or even years, of being stuck in a prison with only an empty cell to keep them company."
"When I trained there - not as a Warrior, but just as a normal person - I would overhear how displeased people were on the prospect of having to fight for Bertraim. And even though choosing not to recruit women is insulting, they were glad that they wouldn't have to fight for him when the time came."
Subtly narrowing her eyes at the pages of her notebook, Alia remembers her training sessions with Aeron after he got chosen to join the Warriors less than a year ago, and how jealous she was of him. She clenches her jaw - even thinking about it just pisses her off. Of course, she was more than happy for him, but why couldn't she join him... protect him? It's idiocy in its finest form.
Movement in Valen's direction has Alia's head snapping up and her previous thoughts dwindle into nothing. He closes his journal and places it, along with his pen, onto the metal table and calmly watches the door of the tavern. From this angle, she can see four roughly carved out numbers on the outer, brown skin of the journal: 2097. Maybe she'll ask him about it later on, and maybe he'll actually speak to her because of it.
Turning her head, Alia watches the door for a few seconds before turning back to look at her notes with a confused frown. What is he looking at?
Does he want to leave?
Squeezing her eyes shut for only a moment, Alia takes a deep breath and continues on with the topic at hand, plucking facts from the depths of her educated mind.
