“It was my fault.” Unir’s face softened as he looked at Nismera. “She was not made with an ounce of love. She was made with power, conceived to be a weapon.” Nismera’s grip tightened on her spear, the veins on her hand swelling. “And for that, I am truly sorry,” Unir said, his voice soaked with regret. “That is, and will always be, my biggest regret. That’s why I came back.” Her grip on her spear eased, and the hope in my chest flared. Was solace what Nismera needed?
No
