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Tanwen was numb as she gazed down at Eli’s open-air pyre. The small flames flickered in the night’s warm breeze from where she and Huw stood alone along the outskirts of the palace grounds.

Eli’s tiny body had been wrapped in white cloth, purified, and prepared to meet Maryth in her Eternal River. His form was no bigger than a pine cone where he rested atop the sticks, the fire quickly devouring and charring everything black.

Tears welled in Tanwen’s eyes, blurring her vision, the rise of her grief finally returning as the weight of her loss settled heavily upon her heart.

Her friend was gone.

Her constant comfort.

Eli, who had been such a joy in her life, who had been integral in finding her father and brother and planning their escape, would now never see it through.

Which only added to the pressure for her to succeed, for his sacrifice to have not been in vain.

But in vain it might certainly be after what she had revealed to Zolya.

Tanwen bit her lower lip, keeping at bay the sob she felt rising.

She had cried enough today. Enough for a lifetime.

The only relief to her agony had come with Huw.

He had prepared everything.

It had been dark by the time Tanwen had returned to the palace, the servants’ quarters thick with whispers as she entered. What had transpired in the atenté dormitory clearly had made its way to the entire staff, her disheveled return not helping matters. But it was easy to ignore their stares and soft mutters when nothing mattered.

Everything Tanwen had held tightly to her chest was now cleaved open, revealed, leaving her fatally bleeding out. Her moment with Zolya in the orchard was but a distant haze in her memory. Another arrow lodged in her pincushion of despair. Tanwen knew she should have been more frightened, worried, regretful, but currently she was empty of caring.

Tanwen had walked like a specter through the halls, no hint of Gwyn or her gang nearby. A blessing, given Tanwen no longer felt in control of her reactions or her words.

Eventually she had found herself returned to the scene of the crime.

But it was now pristine, no evidence of the earlier nightmare. Tanwen had stood by her bed, staring down, unblinking.

“I got you a new mattress.” A soft voice had come from behind her. “And changed your bedding.”

Tanwen had turned, finding Huw.

In his palms he cradled a small wrapped form.

Eli.

Tanwen’s stomach had clenched, her breath stolen with her flash of agony.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” said Huw. “And then we’ll give him a proper send-off.”

Tanwen had allowed Huw to bathe and re-dress her, his ministrations gentle and caring, before he shuffled them outside.

Tanwen blinked, finding herself back where she stood behind a large hedge with Huw beside her, watching as Eli’s small pyre cast a warm glow, filling the somber air.

With trembling hands, she placed a small buttered roll onto the fire, a final tribute to Eli’s favorite food. The flames licked hungrily at the added fuel, as if Eli himself were devouring the offering.

It was both reassuring and painful.

In the following quiet, Tanwen whispered a silent farewell to her friend, thanking him for everything and apologizing for all of it. She did not know if a soul continued to feel when within the Eternal River, but Tanwen hoped he was at peace.

She would carry their pain for them both.

Eventually, Eli’s pyre faded to dying embers, and with it Tanwen turned.

“Where are you going?” asked Huw, who remained behind.

“To bring closure to another loss,” she answered.

Tanwen pressed into the night and headed toward the tunnel that would lead her to the prince.