Oh no.

Panic gripped Bea by the throat when Erend turned from her, the line of his back and shoulders stiff as he walked away. He was clearly upset, and the realisation caused the painful twinge in her breast to sharpen further.

Oh no no no no no no.

She'd been lost in thought when he'd spoken her name and stopped her in her tracks, caught up in an internal critique of the set she'd just completed while simultaneously thinking about her next performance with Stemmer. She'd been utterly unprepared for him to materialise in front of her, even though he'd had a habit of doing exactly that since the day of their very first meeting. To her horror, just like every other time he'd entered her orbit, she'd been immediately rendered mute, all powers of speech burnt away by his wide smile and light blue gaze.

Not again…

Bea tried to suck in a breath past the lump in her throat, frustration rising until it threatened to suffocate her. By the sun. She'd had a plan for speaking with Erend once he returned, one she'd carefully crafted during the time he'd been away. Even practiced it in front of the small mirror in her tent until she was able to get through it without tripping over the words.

She'd been so confident that word of his return would spread through the settlement and give her enough of a warning to gather herself. So many times she'd pictured herself hovering in the wings, waiting for the perfect opportunity to approach him - most likely in the late evening when everyone was finally settling down and quiet had descended over the camp. She knew he liked to stand on the bottom deck that ringed the Tower of Tears at day's end and look out over the dunes, that would have been the ideal time and place to speak with him.

Instead he'd been to one to seek her out and she'd been caught off guard yet again. Her punishment was seeing his kind expression turn to one of confusion, then deepen into something much worse. The memory of how his cheeks had reddened had her pressing her own palms to her face. Guilt and regret rolled in her stomach. What must he think of her? Erend Vanguardsman, the man who'd saved her life - more than once if you considered his roles in both the Liberation of Meridian and the Battle of the Alight.

Suddenly she could see herself through his eyes, clearer than ever, and before she could even register her own movements she'd started after him, following the same direction he'd taken through the crowd. She couldn't wait a single second longer, she was going to thank him even if she died from the shame her fumbling would surely cause her in the process. Then she'd slink away and avoid him for the rest of her life.

Sweat began to trickle down the nape of her neck, tickling its way along her spine as she shoved through a throng of people who all seemed to be twice her size. She took advantage of every sliver of space, ducking and weaving past elbows and swinging tankards of ale as she searched for Erend. The room was noisy but it was her skull that practically reverberated with the din of her own spiraling thoughts. Thoughts she was unable to latch onto thanks to the racing thud of her heart.

Then she spotted him. He was by the bar surrounded by vanguardsman, his profile serious as he stood with a wide stance, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. He appeared as though he was listening to one of his countrymen relay an animated story, but when every other person in the group began roaring with laughter, his expression remained somber.

She slowed, then stopped, taking a moment to gather herself as she ran her eyes over him, noticing things about him in a way she hadn't had the opportunity to before. In truth he looked exhausted, even more so than the afternoon he and his men had arrived back in Hidden Ember with the remains of the damaged caravans. He'd been gone for weeks after all, long enough for her to wonder if he was actually going to return. And in that time his hair had grown, even from this distance she could see the dark stubble that filled in either side of his mohawk and patched the area below his mouth, covering the cleft of his chin.

Something else was different, he wasn't wearing his outer layer of armor. He'd shed the added bulk of vanguard steel but, somehow, he didn't seem to be any smaller without it. She shifted her weight as her eyes drifted over the orange and white striped fabric of his shirt, noting the way he'd rolled up his sleeves to expose heavily muscled forearms. His loose orange pants were still tucked into his enormous boots, but without his leather tassets the fabric looked thinner somehow.

Bea blinked, putting a stop to her thoughts before they could wander down that unexpected path. She needed to stay on track, keep in mind why she'd sought him out before she lost her nerve again.

Taking one last deep breath through her nose she forced her feet back into motion, this time not stopping until she was standing slightly behind his right shoulder. He didn't seem to notice her hovering in his peripheral, too caught up in the next outlandish tale being told with great animation by the same woman who'd been speaking before.

She flicked her gaze past his bicep to the group of Vanguardsmen before settling her attention back on him, her heart kicking up into a steady thud at his proximity. It was strange to be standing so close to him without being pinned by his gaze. She felt a familiar sense of awe sweep over her as she tilted her chin and looked up at him, taking in his familiar profile that, until just a handful of weeks ago, she'd only ever seen from a distance when he'd been on a literal pedestal and she'd just been part of a faceless crowd.

She shifted nervously, bracing herself before reaching out to lay a tentative hand on his forearm. The muscles beneath her palm tightened and she immediately second guessed her method of gaining his attention at the feel of his warm skin. The hairs beneath her palm were rough and the wiry scrape of them sent a shiver of awareness up her arm. He swiveled his head to look down at her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he registered her presence, then his expression turned carefully blank.

Erend slowly turned the rest of the way until he was facing her and she let her hand drop from his arm, taking in his rigid features. It wasn't until this moment that she realised how truly intimidating he could be up close. He wasn't frowning at her, but all traces of his open, friendly expression were completely gone, wiped away by the awkwardness of their recent encounter. Her mind's eye spun up the memory of how he'd looked when he'd approached her, the genuine delight that had lit up his face as he'd tried to talk to her. She'd give anything to get that moment back.

Bea was vaguely aware of the hush that had fallen over the group of men and women behind him and felt her cheeks heat as she realised they were going to witness this exchange too whether she liked it or not.

"Erend," her lips formed his name for the first time. "C-c-can I sssspeak to you?" She fought against a cringe when her mouth and tongue immediately fumbled the words.

He raised an eyebrow, lips twisting at her question. "I'm not sure, can you?" His tone was cool and flat, so far from the kind way he'd spoken to her previously. His question also had a sting to it, was he making reference to the fact she had remained mute around him? Or had her stuttering already induced the ridicule she'd been dreading? She felt a telltale tremble start in her lower lip and managed to stop herself from drawing it between her teeth to bite on it, instead blowing out a steadying breath then drawing another back in through her nose.

She glanced past him, dismay flooding through her when she saw she now had the full attention of the entire group. Her eyes darted from face to face, taking in the expressions that ranged from curious to amused. "I j-j-j-just w-w-w-want-t-ted to ap-p-p…" She stopped to swallow, lifting her face towards Erend once more as she tried to push the words out through trembling lips. "I-I-I."

Erend's eyes darted to her mouth, his blank expression faltering as she floundered. Her hands came up to hover under her chin as she struggled with the childish instinct to cover her mouth and he tracked the movement, his brow pulling into a familiar frown. Desperately she unstuck her jaw, trying to ignore the tremor that waited there.

"I w-w-wanted to ssssay thank y-y-y-y…y-y-you."

"Thank you?" He echoed slowly, "What for?"

Her cheeks caught flame at the complete bafflement that now painted both his tone and features. All her worries that he would think she was a complete idiot solidified into certainty. She was a complete idiot, what had she been thinking?

"I w-w-wwwanted to ssssssay thank y-y-y-you. For…for…" Bea hitched another breath in a vain attempt to calm herself, struggling to picture the words in her head the way her mother had taught her. "You ssssaved me the d-d-day the c-c-convoy was attacked. You help-p-ped me carry my b-b-boxes to my t-t-tent."

Erend uncrossed his arms, his light coloured eyes flicking over her. She felt the heat in her cheeks rush over the rest of her body, the air around her seeming far too dense as all the oxygen left the room. This had been a terrible idea, why had she thought she could do this? Bea took a step back, blinking rapidly against the tears that threatened.

Erend's frown deepened as she moved away. He opened his mouth to speak and panic immediately spiked in her chest. Her teeth clamped together. She knew that if she tried to say anything more the words simply wouldn't come so, in a last ditch effort to communicate, she touched her trembling fingertips to her chin then extended them out toward him before whirling on her heel and plunging back into the crowd.


So, what do you think? What should happen next? This chapter was a tricky one to write and I sat on it for a long time. I think I know where I'd like to go next but I'd love your thoughts!