But one thing has changed. There is no triumph in his eyes. The color has gone out of them, so pale they’re almost gray. And though she’s never seen the shade before, she guesses it is sadness. “I will give you what you want,” he says. “If you will do one thing.” “What?” she asks. Luc holds out his hand. “Dance with me,” he says. There is longing in his voice, and loss, and she thinks, perhaps, it is the end, of this, of them. A game finally played out. A war with no winners.
