Page 26 of Son of the Drowned Empire

Chapter Twenty-Five

“ B y the Gods,” Sean cried. He ran past the lifeless akadim, fell to his knees before me, and wrapped his arms around my back. He pulled me in, his grip suffocating, as I was hauled to his chest in a hug. “I found you,” he gasped. “Gods, finally! I found you.”

I sat frozen on my knees, letting him hold me, unable to hug him back. My arms were stiff at my sides, and my hands felt useless.

No one had touched me in months. Not nicely. No one had truly spoken to me in weeks. I’d gone unseen, hiding from others’ perceptions and ideas. I’d forgotten how to interact. I’d forgotten who I was. I’d been hiding in the dark, and I’d been alone for so long.

As much as I loved and had missed Sean, I wasn’t sure I’d wanted to be found. I didn’t know what to do with him, how to feel. I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel.

“Are you injured?” he asked. His Glemarian accent was thick, reminiscent of home, my old life, the old me… my mother. It reminded me of memories I’d tried to forget, dreams I was desperate to erase, nightmares that haunted me each night. “Rhyan! Rhyan,” he cried, hugging me tighter. “Fuck, I’ve been so worried. I’ve been searching for you for months. Ever since I—”

“I’m fine, Sean,” I said, my voice numb. This had been my first full sentence in…days? Weeks?

He pulled back, his eyes boring into mine, and I watched as he took in the scar. He reached a tentative hand out to gently trace it from my forehead to my left cheek. I flinched at his touch, and my eyes cast down at the lifeless akadim.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

I let my hair, far too long, fall over my face, trying to hide the monstrous scar. “Only when I remember it exists.” I closed my eyes, leaning back into the shadows, feeling tears begin to well, feeling emotion trickling back to my heart. Fuck. This was why I’d stayed hidden.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now. You’ll be all right. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to get this sorted out.”

I pushed him off me. “Sorted out? There’s nothing to sort. I’m forsworn. I’m fine. I’m alive. Surviving.” I spat the word. “You can go home. Back to your wife. Don’t waste your time out here on me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He took hold of my chin, pulling my gaze back to his. His touch was so gentle, I was shaking. “Rhyan, you’re a lot of things to me, but you have never been and never will be a waste of time. And you’re right, I can go home now. Because you’re coming with me.”

I stood, shaking my head. “We need to dispose of the body. I…” I swallowed. “It can’t…can’t…because I…I live here.” I gestured helplessly around me, turning away. “I live here,” I said again, my voice rising.

“Rhyan,” he said, coming to stand before me. “I know you’ve been exiled. I’ve heard his stories.” His voice rose, his aura full of such palpable anger, and I stepped back. “I can only imagine what he did to you. I’ve heard the accusations. The rumors. And I’m almost positive I know what actually happened.”

“I killed her. My mother,” I said, my voice void of emotion. “Killed Garrett, too. Two other soturi on my way out. All with these hands.” I stared at them in front of me, turning my palms up and down. The itching had gotten so bad my palms were nearly scratched raw.

Sean was opening the pouch on his belt, pulling out fresh sun leaves. “Here, for your hands.”

I put them down. “No.”

He frowned but replaced the leaves in his belt. “When you’re ready then.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” I asked. “I’m a killer. Forsworn.”

“I don’t believe for a second that—”

“Believe it!” I snarled. “I did kill them. All of them.”

Sean threw up his hands. “Fine. You killed them. Is that what you want to hear? What you need from me? You’re a killer. You’ve done some terrible things. Satisfied?” His nostrils flared, and he pressed his hand to my shoulder. “How about this then? I don’t care. You’re my nephew. You always were, and you always will be, no matter what you do. And now you’re coming home with me. You’re coming to Bamaria.”

“No, I’m not. Look, I need to burn the body.”

“The smell,” Sean said. “You won’t be able to stay here with it.”

“The smell is awful,” I agreed. “So, after I burn it, I’ll go to another cave. From there, another, or I’ll come back here. It doesn’t really matter. Doesn’t matter what I do. Or where I am. As long as I survive.” I laughed, hysterical. My hands trembled at my sides, and my entire body shook. “The only oath I can keep.” I kept laughing. “Survive.”

“Oh, Rhyan,” Sean said. “It’s okay.”

Then, the tears came, turning into violent sobs. And hours later, they hadn’t stopped.

I opened my eyes. They were raw and puffy. My head ached, and there was light, so much light, blasting against my face. I tried to hide, throwing my arms over my eyes. I sat up, my heart pounding. I wasn’t wearing my armor. My weapons were gone. And I… I wasn’t in the cave. I was surrounded by four walls. And there was a bed next to mine, with real pillows and blankets. It was already made.

“Morning,” Sean said. He was sitting in an armchair across from my bed, one leg crossed over the other. Beside him was a round table with a silver tray holding two mugs and a steaming carafe of coffee.

“Where am I?” I asked. “What is this?”

“It’s an inn,” he said. “Auriel’s Flame. I got us a room.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

“You, um, after you…well, you—oh, fuck it.” He groaned. “I don’t know how to dance around all this, and I don’t want to speak in niceties. We’re too close for that. So, I think we can be honest with each other, yes?”

I watched him for a long moment, still unused to being around people, to being seen. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “Okay.”

Sean nodded, looking relieved. “After you finished crying, you collapsed. I’m guessing too much emotion hit. I don’t think,” his nostrils flared in anger, “I don’t think you’ve been feeling everything, or anything, for quite some time. I picked you up and carried you to my ashvan. Brought you here. I told you when you seemed conscious, asked you about coming here with me, but I think you might have been a little too far gone. It was almost morning when we arrived. That was yesterday. You slept through the whole day and night.”

I threw the covers off my legs and stood, panic rising in my stomach. “I can’t be here. Sean, I’m forsworn. I’m exiled. He’s looking for me. I can’t—”

“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice soothing. “Yes, you can.”

“Who knows I’m here? They’ll turn me in. They’ll tell him.”

“They will do no such thing,” Sean said fiercely. “They’re Branwyn’s family. The owners are her grandparents.”

Branwyn. Sean’s wife. His wife’s family owned the inn. But she lived in Bamaria. I had been north when Sean had found me. There was no way we were…

I glanced out the window. “Where are we?”

“Cretanya,” Sean said. “In the city of Thene. I promise you, you’re safe here. Cal, Branwyn’s grandfather, he won’t say a word.” Sean poured coffee into the mugs, and I watched, transfixed, as steam rose in swirls. The scent was slowly permeating the room, intoxicating.

My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in over a day. And I’d never wanted coffee this badly before; I hadn’t had any for months.

“Come and sit,” he said. “I’ll get you breakfast, too. Whatever you want. As much as you want. We can order the whole menu.”

Gods. I could eat a whole menu. I’d been hunting small animals, rabbits mainly, picking berries, and snatching eggs from local farms, and stealing bread when I dared venture into the villages. I’d gotten rather efficient at feeding myself the basics, feeding myself to stay alive, to keep up my strength. A full meal… that felt like something from too long ago to remember.

After months of flavorless bread and hard-boiled eggs, I started to think about savory breakfast stews, omelets, cooked sausages, pancakes, bread that was hot, bread that wasn’t stale, that had flavor and was dipped in oil…and still soft.

My stomach tightened painfully.

“I had Cal include all the spices you like for your coffee,” Sean said with a wink, pushing a few bottles forward. There was black pepper, red pepper, turmeric, ginger, sticks of cinnamon, and vanilla, alongside a silver jug of cream.

Tentatively, I sat down at the table, ravenous, as Sean pushed the steaming mug my way. “Go easy,” he said. “Your stomach’s empty.”

I nodded and added each of the spices to my mug as if in a trance, watching the colors shift and blend. I added the cream last before stirring. The routine was so familiar, it conjured up an old life, an old me. I’d been making my coffee this way for as long as I could remember—liking the taste and having learned from a mage the benefits of the spices for someone training—someone injured often. I was just about to take a sip, inhaling deeply through my nose, when there was a knock at the door.

I tensed, setting the mug down, immediately searching the room for my sword, my dagger. I was in only my tunic and riding pants. I wore no armor, no cuffs, and felt naked without them. I hadn’t slept without being fully armed since I’d left Glemaria.

Sean grabbed my hand. “Just Cal. And his wife probably. I, uh,” Sean smiled sheepishly, “I might have already ordered the whole menu.”

Sean stood and opened the door, and an elderly man burst into the center of the room. He looked at each corner, his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth as if assessing. His hair was white and stringy, standing up all over his head, and he wore blue mage robes over a faded gray tunic. When he spotted me, he grinned widely. “Good morning! Glad to see you’re awake. I hope you’re hungry.”

He gestured back to the door with his stave. A table, large enough to sit six people and so long it stretched from wall to wall in the room, floated inside. Cal, I assumed, moved out of its way, standing at the foot of the bed before lowering his stave. The table legs settled carefully onto the carpet. An elderly woman with white curls piled messily on top of her head peeked around the doorway.

“It fits!” she said happily. She waved her stave over the table. It was full of silver plates and covered trays. “The food is still warm,” she said. Steam rose off the platters in heavy swirls, and the scents of every food I’d thought of, in addition to foods I hadn’t, wafted toward me. “Everything is nice and fresh. We have some of Cretanya’s best cooks at Auriel’s Flame.” When she saw me, she smiled as warmly as her husband had, as if she were genuinely happy to see me.

I shrank back, fearful she’d recognized me, that she’d see my eye and scar and run.

She smiled wider. “I hope you enjoy yourself. And if you want anything else, or if you want more, you just come right down to tell me. I’ll have the kitchen whip up anything you want.”

“Marisol, Cal, thank you so much,” Sean said. “This is amazing.”

“Our pleasure.” Marisol leaned over the table, her eyes on me again, and I felt my face warm.

She was seeing the scar. She knew I was a monster. Exiled. Forsworn. A killer. She’d start screaming, tell me to leave. Or worse, call the soturi who patrolled Thene. Have me arrested, dragged back to Glemaria, to my father.

“You have the most amazing eyes, the green,” she said.

I could only stare back, stunned.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Rhyan. Sean just adores you. And we adore Sean. I’d come to shake your hand,” she said brightly, “but this table here is just too long, and I’m just a little too old to crawl under it.”

Cal laughed. “You might be, but I’m not.”

“Oh, you!” Marisol laughed.

“I think we’ll let the lad enjoy his meal. Come say hello downstairs whenever you’re ready. We’ll be at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” Sean said again, turning and eyeing me carefully.

“Oh,” Cal said, “almost forgot.” He reached back for his stave.

I gasped, pressing my body to the wall, waiting for the ropes to come, for the trick to be revealed.

But the faint blue glow only reached the table, swiftly lifting every lid to reveal the food underneath. “Catch, Marisol,” he said, slinging each lid out the door.

She giggled, her own stave lifted, and created a floating pile of tray lids that she balanced in the air.

Satisfied, Cal retreated with another warm smile. “Enjoy your meal, Rhyan. Sean.”

The door closed.

With a laugh, Sean said, “Have you ever seen two people who enjoy their work more than they do?”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my face hot.

“Rhyan?”

I couldn’t move. I was just staring at the food. There was so much of it. I hadn’t seen this much food so nicely tabled, so warm, and all at once since…

Since I’d been Heir Apparent. Since the night before the tournament. My last true meal. A lifetime ago.

Sean squeezed in between the tables and chairs to reach my side. “Too much?” he asked.

I shrugged; my chest was heaving. “I…I don’t know.”

Frowning, Sean shook his head. “I do know. And it’s not enough,” he said. “You deserve more. You deserve everything. But we’ll start with this.” He leaned over to the small table we’d occupied and picked up my coffee mug. Sean put it between my hands, and I inhaled, feeling the warmth spread from my palms down my arms. “Go on,” he said. “Drink.”

I did. It was the best thing I’d tasted in months.

And I started to cry again. Sean let me. He didn’t say a word, just drank his own mug of coffee and fixed me a plate, and then another. I was barely able to see my food through my tears as I ate. When I was too full to continue, he led me back to the bed, and tucked me in like I was a child. I slept the rest of the day, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept soundly, with a full belly.

I didn’t leave the room at the inn for three days, not even to venture into the hall. I didn’t even really talk to Sean. It was too much. I just ate and slept. In all that time, Sean never pushed me. He never demanded I talk or go outside. He just let me be.

I hadn’t known how much I’d needed that.

On the fourth day, I asked, “How long are you going to stay here with me?”

“As long as it takes.”

I finished my plate of food. Each day, I’d been eating a little more. I’d been training and working out every day for months by myself, running in the mornings before dawn when akadim were in retreat and soturi were in their final shift. It had paid off; I was still strong. But I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t filling out my armor or that my pants had been loose, and I’d only noticed I was putting weight back on again when I had to move my belt back to the notch I’d worn in Glemaria.

“As long as what takes?” I asked.

“Until you’re ready to come to Bamaria.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

“I’ll keep waiting.”

I didn’t speak to Sean at all on the fifth day. I woke up angry with him for pulling me out of hiding, for forcing me to be in a place where people could see me, a place where I could see myself. Every time I went to the bathing room where the mirror was, I entered without any light, leaving the candles in the main room or blowing the bathing room lights out if Sean lit them.

I didn’t need light. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark.

On the seventh day at the inn, Sean sat me down. “Rhyan,” he said. “I need you to tell me what happened.”

I stared at my hands. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re carrying the weight of it with you, and it’s too heavy. Give some to me. Let me take it. Let me at least carry it for a while, some of it. Let me know what’s been in your nightmares.”

My mouth was dry. I’d been screaming, waking to Sean sitting at the edge of my bed and rubbing my forehead until I went back to sleep. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Try,” he said.

“I can’t…” I hadn’t spoken it out loud to anyone. Hadn’t tried to tell anyone what had happened—not since the disaster at Blackthorn.

“Pretend,” he said, “as if you’re telling me a story. Like you used to.”

I scoffed. I used to tell Sean the same stories my mother had told me. I’d loved repeating them back to him whenever I was allowed to see him. Which, thanks to his disagreements with my father, wasn’t as often as I’d wanted.

“I can’t do that,” I said. “Can’t just tell you a story.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” I slammed my fist on the table, surprised at my own outburst.

“Rhyan.” Sean’s hands were out, his voice quiet, like he was trying to gentle a wild animal.

“Sean, just stop. Please. My life isn’t a story. It’s not some neat little fairy tale my mother used to tell me. That’s sure as fuck not what happened! That’s not what this is. It’s real. You think I can turn this into a story? Into a fucking fantasy where good defeats evil and love conquers all? The heroes in my life aren’t rewarded, they’re punished. And the villains? They win. The ending isn’t happy, no matter how hard I try to make it be. I can’t tell you a story because that’s not what this is. It’s my life, and it’s pathetic, and it’s brutal. It’s hard, and it fucking sucks. Even this. Even being here in this inn, in a bed, and having food and shelter—even being with you, it’s gryphon shit!”

Sean nodded slowly. “I know that’s how you’re feeling.”

“No, you don’t know! You don’t know how I feel! You don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t been through this! You don’t understand.”

“Then, help me to understand. Rhyan, tell me. Please. I want to know.”

“Bringing me to an inn and feeding me… it doesn’t fix anything. Doesn’t change what happened. It can’t bring my mother back. Or Garrett… or Bowen. It won’t make my friends stop hating me. Undo everything and everyone I failed.”

“It’s not supposed to undo anything.”

“Then what! What’s the point.”

“You. You are the point.”

I shook my head, feeling nauseous. “You think you can fix me, Sean? You think you can save me? Save this? Well, you can’t! You can’t fucking fix me.”

“What if I told you I didn’t think you were broken?”

“Then, you understand less than I thought.”

“How so?”

“Because! I’m a monster. I broke my oath. I killed my friend. Everyone who ever tried to protect me, help me, love me… they’re hurt, or dead, because of me. Either by my hand or fucking close enough. I’ve seen what it’s like. I see how it’s going to be. And this is it! This is it for me. And you might as well go! I’m not a good person, not someone to be around. People die because of me. People lose because of me.”

“I’m not leaving you. And I don’t believe any of that—not for a second.”

“Fuck, Sean! Gods! Don’t you fucking see? You’re not like me. You’re not going to get it. You don’t understand,” my voice cracked, “that at some point, you start to realize that life isn’t fair. That you can be good and try and do the right thing, and it still doesn’t matter. And after enough times of trying, and pushing, and giving it your fucking everything, you realize that not everybody has a happy ending. And I think… I think it’s long past the time that I admit to myself that I’m one of those people. Admit that my happy ending doesn’t exist.”

“Your life doesn’t have to be a fairy tale. Nor perfect. Not even close. Just because you think there isn’t a happy ending doesn’t mean there won’t be. You’re not done yet. You don’t know the end. How could you? You’re still in the middle.”

“Only because,” I sobbed. “Because I…because…” I was now choking on my tears. Barely able to speak. “I’m only here because I swore to—” I bit my lip, hot tears blurring my vision.

“Swore what?” His eyes searched mine. “Swore what? Rhyan?” he asked more gently.

My shoulders slumped forward. “To survive,” I said, defeated like it was a big secret. A weakness.

“And you did. And you are.” He brushed my hair off my forehead, long and wild now with matted curls. “But what if you could do more? What if we could start writing the rest of your story today? Take back some of your life, some control. Be your own author,” Sean said.

“No.” I wrung my hands together. “I make a gryphon-shit storyteller.”

“I doubt that. You’ve never been gryphon-shit at anything you set your mind to. Quite the opposite, actually. Even with this.”

“This? This what?”

“This!” he yelled, gesturing wildly at me. “I don’t know what actually happened, not in detail, but it doesn’t matter. Because I know you, better than you know yourself right now. I know that even if mistakes were made, even if you somehow made the wrong choice, I know you did your best, made the best decision you could under the circumstances. I’ve never known anyone who pushed themselves more or tried harder than you. No one! You put your mind to something—anything and you do it! Don’t you get it? You’re so good at succeeding, at setting your mind to your goals, that you even succeeded in giving yourself the most punishing exile you could manage.”

“Shut up!”

“No.” Sean stood. “I’ve been patient. I haven’t asked you for anything, haven’t pressured you, not for days. I’ve spent a whole week locked up in this Godsdamned inn. Much as I enjoy Cal and Marisol’s hospitality, you know that we can’t stay here forever. This isn’t real life, and neither was whatever you were doing in that cave where I found you.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Look, Rhyan, I don’t expect you to change today or even in a month. You’ve been through shit no one at any age should have gone through. What happened wasn’t your fault, you didn’t deserve any of it. So, I know this is going to take time. But you’re going to listen to what I have to Godsdamned say. I think I’ve earned that much from you.”

My fists clenched, and my teeth were grinding together.

“Well?” Sean asked. His anger was rising, pulsing in his aura.

“Fine.,” I snapped. “I’ll listen. But that’s it.”

Sean sat back at the table, his aura calming. He took a deep breath, and met my eyes.

“I think you have more power over your life than you want to admit, but you’re scared. Because your father spent years of his life trying to convince you otherwise, that he was in control, that he had the power, and that he was the one who was going to tell your story. Well, guess what? He did. He sang his little song about you all over the Empire. And because you’ve been quiet, his voice has been the loudest. Your father is in charge of the story because everyone lets him be. But that doesn’t have to be how it is! You escaped. This is your life. Right now, it’s messy and confusing. And it hurts. But it’s yours. I know you think you failed; I know you carry the weight of Lumeria on your shoulders. And yes, there’s a lot you can control. But there’s a lot you can’t. You lost sight of which is which. Your father’s power…it’s ruined the balance. But you can still decide how you’ll react, still decide to move forward.”

Unable to meet his eyes, I turned away, my gaze falling out the window, to the life and business of people in the city, people I’d been terrified to see, people I’d longed to be amongst.

“You’ve come this far, haven’t you?” Sean asked. “You escaped an Imperator, have evaded his reach for months. You escaped Glemarian prison, survived akadim, and being alone on the road with forsworn and Afeya and Gods know what else. That takes strength and will, things you have more than you know what to do with. I don’t think you’re destined for an unhappy ending. Truly. I don’t.” He paused, one eyebrow raised.

“But?” I said.

“But it’s not just going to be handed to you either. Just like every other victory you’ve won, you’re going to have to earn it. Claim it. And the first step is getting back your story. You need to stop hiding. Stop stalling. Let everyone know your side, too. Stop letting your father be your voice.”

“How?”

“Come out of here. Come back to the real world, to your life. Even if it looks different than before, even if it doesn’t have the same titles, there’s a life out there for you. A purpose. People who need you. People who will love you.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. It… It hurts too much.”

“I know. I know it does. The first step will hurt the most. But it won’t always hurt like this. You won’t always feel this scared. This sad.”

It was so like what Bowen had promised me. And I thought back to what I’d promised him. I wasn’t just supposed to survive. I was supposed to make his sacrifice—and my mother’s and Garrett’s and Kenna’s—worth it. But I hadn’t been doing any of that. I’d been living like my father was in the cave with me, making sure I suffered every day, making sure I was punished enough.

I’d been keeping the wrong oath. His. Not the ones I’d made to the people who loved me. The ones who’d fought for me. The ones still fighting.

“There’s a chance I can’t ever go back to life in public. At least in the Empire. I’m forsworn.”

Sean took my hand. “Public opinion of you isn’t the same in the South as it is in the North. You made a positive impression on the Bamarian Arkturion and Arkasva in the past. And I can vouch for you. You’re strong, and they’d be honored to have you join the fight. Akadim are spreading, their numbers growing like never before, and they’re moving south. Agreeing to hunt, that’s how I got leave to search for you. You’ve proven you’re more than capable of handling yourself with them. Once you have the Arkasva’s protection, your father won’t be able to touch you. You’ll have his backing and a different Imperator standing between you. A shit one, but a different one. I swear, if you come to Bamaria, you will be safe.” He released me and pressed a fist to his heart twice before flattening his palm across his chest. “Me sha, me ka. There’s a road forward for you. You just need to take the next step.”

Living with Sean in Bamaria was what I’d wanted when I’d first crossed the border. “Do you really think I can do this?”

“I’ve only been waiting for you to realize it.”

I wiped at my eyes, a wave of exhaustion washing over me, weighing me down. “I think I need to rest.”

“Of course.” Sean stood and pulled back the covers of my bed, holding them until my head reached the pillow. A minute later, I was out.

A scroll arrived for Sean the next day. He read it quickly, his eyes full of worry. But when I asked what it was, he only ripped it up and said it was work and not to worry.

The day after, another came, and then another. We were nearing a week and half at the inn.

“Your leave’s up,” I guessed. “Arkturion Aemon wants you back.”

Sean ripped up the scroll as he’d done all the others. “My leave was up a long time ago. And so was my pay.”

“Sean!”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Branwyn and I have plenty of savings.”

“But you’re disobeying your arkturion. Won’t you be lashed?”

He was thoughtful, sucking on his lower lip. “Aye.” He shrugged. “Worth it though.”

I held Sean’s gaze. “I want to come back with you.”

“Good.” He stood up. “Pack up. Let’s go.”

“But I can’t…yet. I’m not ready. I just,” I groaned, trying to find the right words, “I know I couldn’t have saved Garrett, or my mother. But I keep feeling like I should have. And I know neither would want this for me. But I just…I don’t know. It feels like I keep fucking fighting. Like I’ll always be fighting. Fighting and getting nowhere, winning nothing.”

“I know. You’re tired.”

“I am.”

“It’s okay. Be tired. Accept it. Rest. As long as you want. As long as you get back up. As long as you don’t stop fighting in the end.”

“Sean, what am I fighting for?” Everyone I tried to protect, I failed. Even when I tried to protect myself, it had gone terribly wrong.

“You’re fighting for you. Because you’re worth fighting for.”

I ran my hands through my hair. “What if that’s not enough?”

His eyes softened. “What about love?” He smiled. “I wasn’t the only one who lost my heart in Bamaria.”

Hazel eyes, pink, pouty lips, golden skin, and dark hair that turned to fire in the sun. A warm summer breeze. Scrolls from the library. Lemon cake. Batavia red. “You knew?” I asked.

He smiled. “I saw the way you looked at her at the solstice celebration. Saw the way that she looked at you. I knew.”

“She’s promised to another.”

“So was Branwyn.” He sighed. “I have half a mind to knock you out, tie you up, and carry you back to Bamaria myself. But I know now this has to come from you. Not me. You have to be the one to decide. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to leave. Give you some time. You’ll be able to stay here as long as you want. We have the room reserved indefinitely. Rest longer, maybe venture out into the city when you’re up to it. And then, when you’re ready, Branwyn and I will be waiting for you in your new home. You’ll be able to stay as long as you want. You can finish your studies there, become a soturion. You can have peace, until you’re ready to fight back. Until you’re ready to get your revenge. And I’ll be right behind you.”