Maadi inched closer to Siya, his face tense with an emotion she had never seen in him before. Panic? Maadi never panicked. ‘Siya, you’re the greatest warrior Wagadou has ever seen. You have even surpassed your father when he was your age. Which is why we can’t risk losing you. Let someone else go in your stead. Dyabe doesn’t even know who you are.’
Siya frowned. This irrationality was odd coming from him. ‘Maadi, you know I can’t put anyone else in danger like that—’
‘We can’t lose you.’ Maadi’s usual still-water voice had turned stormy and gruff and it echoed around the banquet room. He and Siya both seemed startled by it. A few silent seconds passed before Maadi cleared his throat. ‘Besides, you need to organise a team to go with you. Medical, someone to keep your weapons, and it’s probably too late to . . .’ His voice trailed off as he assessed Siya.
Realisation shadowed Maadi’s face, and he rubbed his jaw. ‘You’ve organised it. You decided already. You’re not asking for my advice.’
Siya swallowed. ‘They are meeting me there tomorrow at midday. I’m sorry, Maadi. I trust you more than anyone else in the world. You know that. I just knew you wouldn’t agree to this and it is something I need to do. Don’t worry. I’ve been training for this my whole life.’
Maadi quietly regarded her. He took a sip of his own wine. Maadi usually exercised gentle calm when Siya was flying into a passion, often scaling back her strategy into one that kept her from mortal danger as much as was possible. It irritated her sometimes, but she knew it was just to protect her. So she was somewhat surprised when he nodded. ‘You’re right.’
‘I am?’ Siya paused and cleared her throat. ‘I am.’
Siya could see his mind whirring, thoughts that made his jaw tense up. His gaze drifted to just behind her head, avoiding hers. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I would like to accompany you.’
Siya looked up at Maadi softly and reached out to squeeze his hand. ‘I’d be glad to have you by my side, friend.’
A shadow flitted across Maadi’s face and he met her eyes with something that made her breath stagger.
‘We are not friends, Commander.’ His tone was even, inscrutable.
A stark coolness abated the warmth that had previously flooded through Siya. Of course. Maadi’s association with her only went as far as his loyalty to Wagadou and her father.
‘You’re right. I . . . we are colleagues. Comrades . . .’
Maadi paused as his gaze dropped to the necklace that hung between the curves of her chest. ‘That isn’t what I meant, Siya.’
She put her cup down on the table after drinking the rest of the wine. A terrible mistake. It only seemed to amplify the rapid beating of her heart and the protest of her body, angry at her for maintaining its distance between her and Maadi. His deep-ochre woven waistcoat was open, exposing the gleaming brown of his taut chest and his matching linen lounge trousers, hung low on his waist. As with his very being, every part of his body was defined and sturdy. Siya tried not to be distracted and fixed her eyes on his, trying to deny the chemistry and biology and attempting to focus on logic.
‘We of all people can’t afford distraction.’
Maadi shifted closer. ‘With all due respect, Siya, I’m not distracted. I’m focused on what matters most.’
Siya’s breath hitched. The air between them thickened, becoming increasingly harder to haul down her throat. She’d once had a man twice her size lay a blade across her neck, yet, still, Siya had never felt her heart thump as it did when Maadi looked at her in that moment.
She pushed her voice past the calcified lump of air in her throat. ‘Maadi. We’re dealing with life and death . . .’
Maadi’s eyes were a reflection of the inferno within her. ‘Precisely.’
Siya hesitated. Maadi wasn’t exactly loquacious, but when he spoke, it was full and heavy with the understanding of her and the world they inhabited. He was right. They had looked demons in the eye and survived. They had shared the void left by someone they loved, and intimately knew how close the afterlife was. They knew that every breath was a gift. And through it all, they had each other. Life was fragile and quick and the only way to slow it down, to give it some semblance of fortitude, was to revel in the heat of it all, the joy of it all.
Siya raised her chin, as she did when addressing her army. ‘I have one more order, Sergeant.’
Something like disappointment rose up in Maadi’s eyes, but he inclined his head. ‘Anything, Commander.’