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“As a prisoner,” I added.

“Smart,” he murmured in my head, and I could sense his objections melting into approval.

Lidia blanched. “All right,” she whispered, clearly picturing torture chambers

I grabbed her hand again. “You’ll be treated well. No dungeons.”

The tension eased from her face.

“She can ride with me,” Igrith announced. She extended a hand. “This way, my lady.”

I braced myself for Lidia to balk, but she smiled and took Igrith’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. They moved off, Igrith slightly taller, Lidia’s dark skirts brushing Igrith’s legs. Jordan stepped out of their way and watched them pass. When he met my gaze again, I thought I glimpsed a smile in his eyes. But then he strode toward the horses, and I wondered if I’d imagined it.

A creaking sound had me spinning back around.

At last, Laurent crossed the bridge, a pair of knights behind him. He looked tired but unharmed, the silver post in his ear catching the first hints of sunlight.

He looked between me and Varick. “What was all that crying on the bridge about?”

“We’re taking Lidia home with us,” I said. “As a political prisoner.”

He nodded. “Smart.”

I smiled.

Varick narrowed his eyes at Laurent. “Why did you run toward the South’s line?” He spoke in a tone one level below his general’s voice.

A chastened look crept over Laurent’s features. “I saw Crasor but I couldn’t get a clean shot at him. I know it was stupid.”

“It was careless,” Varick growled. “It probably cost Rhys his life.”

Laurent stiffened as I sucked in a breath. “We don’t know that, Varick,” I said.

Anguish filled Laurent’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

“How about starting with I’m sorry?”

“You think I’m not?”

“I haven’t heard you say it.”

Laurent took a quick step forward. “What is wrong with—”

I moved between them and planted a palm on each of their chests. Mindful of the knights nearby, I pitched my voice low as I looked at Varick. “We were in the heat of battle. Crasor did a lot of harm. Laurent saw a chance to remove a threat, and he took it. He’s the first to admit he’s not a warrior. He acknowledged his mistake.”

The men were silent, their hearts thumping rapidly under my palms.

“It’s not fair to blame Laurent for Rhys’s death,” I said. “Maybe Jordan can see the future, but the three of us cannot.”

After a long moment, Varick’s chest relaxed under my hand. “You’re right.”

I swung my gaze to Laurent. “You love each other, don’t you?”

He stared at Varick with hurt in his silver eyes. “Yes.”

I looked at Varick. He dropped his chin down and exhaled heavily. “Yes. I love him.”

“We forgive those we love,” I said, “even when we make mistakes.”