The tent was quiet, the bright morning light muted through the thick canvas.
The only sound that filled the air was the soft clinking of armor as each piece found its place with a rhythm known only to those who had done this countless times before.
Maria stood behind Abram, her hands working deftly as she fastened the last of his pauldrons. Her fingers trembled just slightly, but she calmed it, not allowing the anxiety she was feeling to bleed through.
She had to be calm. She had to put a smile on her face. Not just for her husband, but for herself.
She glanced up at the back of his head as Abram broke the silence. "You know," he said, his voice low, "I've said a lot of things and I realize I have a lot more to say."
"You, Maria, were always more than my heart. You were my compass. You still are."
Maria paused. "Don't say that."
