"Good evening, Sonea," he said, rising from his favourite chair in the foyer. Sonea carefully shut the door of the residence behind her and put her bag down. The familiarity of this moment – one that she used to dread when she first came to live here as this man's hostage – suddenly brought on the urge to smile. She contained her expression when she looked into Akkarin's serious face. That line between his dark eyebrows was back.

Torn between relief and anxiety, Sonea inclined her head awkwardly. She knew Akkarin didn't like to dispense with the formalities until they were in the privacy of his bedroom, study or library. But this was no secret anymore. "Welcome back," she said quietly.

Akkarin's lips twitched at the corner slightly, as if they were sharing an inside joke. "Home sweet home," he said. Sonea felt her shoulders relax a little when she heard the smile in his voice. It was remarkable how she had grown attuned to his moods and tone, noting something here, savouring something there.

Akkarin was thinking exactly the same thing at that moment. Studying the face that had kept his spirits up during that long night in the Arena, he noted with surprise that her dark mahogany hair had curled slightly at the ends. Sonea had very wavy hair, he realised. It had been cut too short to tell before. It would look luscious, thick and bold when it eventually reached her mid-back.

I must remember this, the thought came to him, unbidden, melancholy. I will not see it. We will be separated. That this even happened, briefly, is still hard to believe, he thought. In one elegant stride, he closed the distance between them. Sonea looked up at him intensely, her cheeks faintly glowing pink when Akkarin reached up to brush a loose strand away from her face.

"It was the only way" Sonea whispered, her dark eyes looking into his meaningfully. Akkarin knew she was referring to the Hearing. There was too much to say, and also much to plan, now.

Akkarin let his hand fall, tracing her cheek gently before it did. "Let's talk in the library," he replied.

– Takan, can you come to the library, please? Akkarin sent through the blood ring, receiving a quick affirmative from Takan's mental presence.

As they walked into the cosy library, where a fire had been built up already, Akkarin made for the decanter of Anuren Dark on the shelf. As he poured himself a glass, Sonea stepped up close to him. She firmly grasped the decanter in his hand and set it aside, then rose up on the balls of her feet for a kiss. Akkarin was surprised by the sudden gesture, but felt his body respond quickly. He grasped Sonea's arms and gently stepped back.

Her black eyebrows knitted together in concern, her eyes looking hurt but accepting. As if he had just confirmed something she feared by pulling back from the kiss. Something in Akkarin's chest tightened painfully.

He cupped her face in both hands. "Takan will be here in a moment," he said gently by way of explanation. Sonea nodded, but still looked subdued. Akkarin noticed she then poured herself a rare glass of wine, and they sat down on the comfortable armchairs that faced each other. Akkarin studied Sonea's face carefully, but she was looking intently into the fire, taking quick, small sips from her glass.

There is something so familiar in how she is always braced for rejection. I wish I could take that away, but if I knew how, I'd try it on myself, Akkarin thought. So very like him, Sonea was. Hardened, like him, by circumstances that had developed her self-reliance to the point where being vulnerable was unfamiliar territory. Ready to harden once more when something tentatively offered – friendship, desire – is not received or reciprocated. But it is, Sonea, it is. There is simply more at stake than what we want, Akkarin thought.

Takan knocked softly then entered. Akkarin gestured to the third armchair. "Sit, my friend. Wine, if you like," he said.

Takan sat down and shot Akkarin a half-smile. "Never did get used to that fruit water you Kyralians call wine."

Akkarin snorted softly. Sonea allowed herself a small smile and looked between the two of them questioningly. "Takan would trade another year in Sachaka's wastelands for a crate of their spicy vintage," Akkarin explained.

Takan grinned at Sonea with a row of perfect white teeth. "We all have a complicated relationship with our homelands, do we not?"

"That we do," Sonea sighed bitterly, sipping from her glass of Anuren Dark. Her eyes got a faraway look.

Akkarin suspected that she was thinking of how she had found herself killing in defence of a kingdom that purged its own every winter. "If only Merin knew of the courage to be found in the people he despises," he said softly. Sonea's black eyes snapped to meet his.

All three silently gazed into the fire for a few moments, the only sound in the room coming from the gentle crackling of the wood.

Akkarin set aside his glass and rested his elbows on the armchair, steepling his fingers under his face. An expectant, grim determination seemed to hang in the air between the three accomplices. "We don't have many days left in this residence together, I believe," Akkarin began. "I had no hint from Lorlen yet as to what the Higher Magicians are considering. When we returned from the palace earlier today, Balkan invited them to his office to discuss their course of action. Lorlen removed his ring before he joined the meeting."

The High Lord's voice took on that silky, dangerous edge that suggested his displeasure at Lorlen's actions. Sonea felt a familiar thrill run down her spine. Whenever Akkarin re-embodied that intimidating, subtle and powerful man that she had first known him to be, Sonea couldn't help but feel seduced all over again. With effort, she pulled her attention away from thoughts of how many days it had been since she felt Akkarin's caresses.

"Lorlen will not be the only one whom I cannot control from now on. Rothen, too, may act again, now that his first attempt at catching me out did not work," Akkarin continued. "They know my blackmail no longer holds," he said, his mouth curling at the corner as his gaze fell on Sonea's fire-lit face.

Sonea was relieved to see that half-smile accompany Akkarin's words. "I'm sorry that I didn't go by your plan," she said. "And I think I worried Takan half to death, too…" Sonea added apologetically. "I know you two can communicate mentally, so if I'd told Takan my intentions before the Hearing, I wouldn't have…"

"Cornered me into going along with your plan on the spot," Akkarin finished for her, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Well… yes," Sonea finished sheepishly.

Takan threw Akkarin a knowing glance. "I think you've been out-manouvered, master. I did tell you she would make a worthy ally."

Akkarin hid his smile with another long sip from his glass of wine. "As opposed to a formidable enemy, I suppose." Then he grew more serious as he set aside his glass. "I cannot pretend that it was easy to lie under oath…"

"We said what we had to," Sonea interjected. "And besides, you were telling the truth too – we know that the Ichani impersonated you in the hopes of directing suspicion at the Guild." She grinned. "In the slums, we have a saying: 'a truth well-placed saves a thousand lies'. You told two truths that led the Higher Magicians away from more questions we'd have had to lie about."

"Be that as it may, Sonea, the truths we revealed will now have new consequences to be dealt with…" Akkarin sighed.

Sonea frowned, feeling somewhat indignant. She hadn't made the decision lightly. "If you don't mind me saying, your plan was much worse. Takan and I would have come off as victims, and you would have been charged guilty of associating with the Thieves and guilty of blackmailing me into silence."

"And your position in the Guild would have therefore remained secure, your reputation faultless," Akkarin replied sternly.

Sonea scoffed softly. "My reputation? What reputation do I have to live up to – the honour of Northside, House nobody?"

"The reputation," Akkarin interrupted, his voice gaining that commanding edge, "that you have built – by virtue of the talent, honour and work ethic you have shown in the Guild."

A silence descended. The fire crackled as Sonea and Akkarin stared at each other, two pairs of black eyes burning with the emotions provoked by the words being exchanged.

"A reputation I would destroy again if it meant what we have right now: you judged innocent, still High Lord, and us still together here in the residence," Sonea said quietly.

Akkarin could find nothing to say to that. All he could do was look at the young woman in front of him that, every day, bit by bit, seemed to be reigniting his desire to fight, to hope – to defeat both Kariko and the ghosts of his past.

"Well, we cannot plan on an empty stomach," Takan said. "Let me prepare dinner – it should ready in no more than half an hour" He stood up.

Akkarin looked at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Takan. We'll be up soon."

Sonea echoed Akkarin's thanks and Takan shot her a cheeky smile – as if to say, stand your ground, my Lady – before leaving the room.

After refilling his glass, Akkarin resettled into the couch and watched the fire for a moment. He could feel Sonea's gaze on his face. He rested his chin on his hand and looked up to meet her gaze. "I never expected I'd be able to keep the Guild's secret for this long," he began, looking thoughtful. "By the end of my second year as High Lord, I had located and killed six Sachakan slave-spies sent by Kariko. They kept coming, each leaving a little less time between one and the next…"

Sonea listened intently. Akkarin rarely spoke about his past, and she did not want to interrupt in case he stopped.

"I began to assume each confrontation could be my last. It felt impossible that my luck had held out for that long… that I still hadn't either been discovered practicing higher magic, or been killed by a spy," he took a sip from his wine, his lip curling into a smile. "Yet here I still am, nearing my sixth year as High Lord. I can't help but think my days in the position, if not in the Guild, are now numbered. Now that Ichani, not slaves, are being sent to Imardin, I suspect we could next expect Kariko's invasion to begin outright."

Akkarin's black eyebrows furrowed and he locked eyes with Sonea, his expression serious. "The point is, this Hearing has bought us time, but I am on borrowed time. My hope was to keep you in the Guild, learning as much as you can, for as long as you can. Growing stronger and more skilled, as you eventually… defend Imardin when I am killed."

"You will not be killed," Sonea said firmly. "We defeated an Ichani together a few nights ago. We can do it again." Then her face grew a little uncertain. "I don't need to be liked to finish my studies; I can put up with gossip and ill will. But do you think the Higher Magicians may expel me, as punishment?"

"I will never allow that to happen," Akkarin said quietly, anger simmering in his voice. "If they reach that verdict, I will say that I coerced you. You will remain a novice, and I will be charged with abusing my guardianship, demoted, and probably be sent to the Fort for a year. It is nothing I cannot survive."

"Absolutely not! You're a lot more valuable to the Guild than I am. Only you have the experience to confront Kariko…" Sonea protested.

"You are going to be the teacher that the Guild will need when it realises that it must strengthen itself with higher magic," Akkarin argued, his eyes fiery.

Sonea looked into the flames, her stomach knotted. It just did not sit right with her.

"It's just… wrong. That is not what happened between us, and we both know it. To say it was forced is a lie," Sonea said, struggling to put into words what she was feeling. The thought of Akkarin being punished for what had been the best, most turbulent, yet most enriching months of my life…

Akkarin gave her a small smile. "Didn't our well-placed truths absolve us of a thousand lies, as you said?"

"That's not what the saying was getting at!" Sonea allowed herself to return the smile.

Akkarin raised his elegant, masculine hands in mock surrender. "My mistake," he said amusedly.

"Akkarin," Sonea's tone turned serious again. "Please, please stop insisting on sacrificing yourself. Let's try to survive what's to come together."

Akkarin watched her intently. "No regrets?" He asked softly.

Sonea rose and walked towards his armchair. He looked up at her intensely as she stood very close. She reached down with one hand to place a palm on his cheek. She could feel the beginnings of stubble. "None at all," she whispered.

Akkarin turned his face towards Sonea's palm so that he could kiss it. It made her whole hand tingle with pleasure. "Come here," he whispered hoarsely, his hand reaching up for Sonea's waist and pulling her forward.

The armchair was just wide enough for her to place a knee on each side and sit astride him. She cupped his face in her hands and bent down to kiss him deeply. Akkarin returned the kiss, moving his hands down to her hips to grip her even more tightly onto his lap.

As Akkarin kissed and nuzzled her neck, Sonea's breathing quickened when she felt his hardening manhood press up against her novice's trousers. She brought her hand down between their bodies, fumbling with the waist sash of his black silk robes. The thought that this may be their final night together in the residence crossed Sonea's mind, and she tried to push the idea aside. Yet it remained in her surface thoughts, causing her movements to grow frantic. If anything, Akkarin's kissed and caresses seemed to grow more erratic in response: as if he, too, had thought of – or read from Sonea's thoughts – this bleak possibility.

They had to part for a moment so that Sonea could slip off her trousers, both of them slightly red in the face from the heat of the fireplace and their own quick breathing. Akkarin freed his manhood from behind the folds of his robes and Sonea straddled him again. His hands guided himself into her and Sonea pushed herself down onto his lap slowly, sighing in contentment. Akkarin exhaled heavily and gripped her by the hips, tilting his head up so that his lips could meet hers.

The sensation of Sonea's body pinning him down into the armchair, of her total control over the pace of their movements, demanded every bit of self-control Akkarin had. Usually, he enjoyed dominating their lovemaking, but her bold, reassuring and hungry movements tonight were exactly what he wanted, needed. Doing no more than kissing every inch of her he could reach – lips, neck, collarbone – he surrendered to her with pleasure.

By the time Sonea and Akkarin made their way up the stairs and into the dining room, Takan was wearing that expression of polite irritation that Akkarin knew meant that the food had already coolled too much.

They all sat down, Takan joining them tonight. He laid his napkin on his lap and looked at the two magicians expectantly. "Well, did you come up with a plan?"

Sonea suddenly grew very interested in her vegetable starter, and Akkarin reached over and poured Takan a glass of Anuren Dark. "We were at a complete loss without you, old friend," he said, his lips curling at the corner. "Couldn't come up with a single idea. We thought it best to wait until you returned."

Takan snorted in disbelief.