Prologue – Year 850

Eve of the 57th Exterior Scouting Mission

She needed sleep. Try as she might, it would not come. The final few hours before a mission were the worst to endure.

A single candle burned on her bedside table. She had spent the night with a book, hoping – praying – that the words would ease her mind. The tome now lay on her chest, its pages a blanket.

At long last, the flame died in its cradle. The cold, empty gloom yawned in the absence of light. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if she should close her eyes or light another candle.

Knock, knock, knock.

The downy covers rustled as she pushed them aside. Her visitor was hardly an inconvenience; if anything, she welcomed their arrival.

Lamplight swathed her room in a soft amber glow. Standing on the other side of the door was a man five years her senior. Even in the small hours, he looked no worse for wear.

"Iris." He whispered her name like a secret.

"Erwin."

"Did I wake you?"

"Not at all," she confessed, stepping aside. "Would you like to come in?"

The door closed behind him with an inaudible click. Though Erwin carried a lantern, his presence was warmth enough. "I haven't much time," he said, setting the lamp beside her unlit candle.

"What's on your mind?" Iris sat on the edge of her bed. There weren't many places for repose in her quarters. The room was intimate, but not inadequate; it was perfect for a single occupant.

"Actually," he said tenderly, "you are." Erwin sighed and knelt between her knees. The night must have been long for him, too. "And I don't know how to handle that right now."

Iris ran her fingers through his thick, golden hair. They hadn't spoken honestly in weeks. "Erwin," she murmured, "look at me."

He met her gaze without issue. Erwin often found solace in her soft, green eyes. Tonight, however, the man wore despondence like a cloak.

"There he is." Her words were meant for no one in particular. "I've missed you." Iris exhaled and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. For now, it was enough.

Erwin pulled away reluctantly. "I can't stay," he replied. His voice hovered above a whisper. "And I doubt you'll want me to when you hear my orders."

"Orders?" she questioned, withdrawing. "I don't understand."

The space between them seemed immense – more so now than before. Despite their stolen glances and nocturnal activities, they were strangers. It seemed the commander was content to keep her at arm's length for the time being.

After a long silence, Erwin stood up. "You are to remain at headquarters tomorrow," he said. His tone was stern, but not callous. "Mike and I have already reassigned your position."

Another hush fell over the room. Iris interlaced her fingers and stared at a blank space on the wall. Had they no history, she would have accepted his directive without question.

"No." Her voice was steady and sure.

He must not have expected pushback. Erwin furrowed his brows. "I don't believe I asked," he countered.

"That doesn't change my answer." Iris steeled her resolve and approached him. "I will not sit idly by when I am fit to serve."

"It isn't up for debate, Wagner." Erwin inhaled sharply and set his jaw. He had not addressed her by surname in years. "Those are my orders and I expect you to follow them."

"Oh, I'm 'Wagner' now?" She was coming undone. "Really? Cut the shit, Erwin."

Something in him snapped. He took hold of her wrists and pulled her flush to his body. "I am your superior and you will do as I command!" he shouted. "I will confine you to quarters if need be. Do I make myself clear?!"

Iris immediately averted her gaze. It was the only form of submission he would receive that night.

"I can't lose you," he admitted. Sweat dotted his brow as he regained composure.

"How do you think I feel?" Iris asked. She bit her lip and blinked back tears. "If you keep me here, I'll spend every day wondering if you're still alive. P-Please don't do that to me."

The moment he wrapped his arms around her, Iris collapsed against his chest and cried. Their relationship – or lack thereof – had taken its toll. He must have felt the strain, too. Erwin held her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "It can't be helped," he murmured. The words died on her skin as soon as they left his lips. "I'm sorry, Iris."