He pulled back to look at me. “I’m sorry for all of it,” he said, wiping my cheeks. “But she gave me a second chance at life, though it was hardly living. My devotion to Aisling was hard to undo. I am sorry I found you, sick in the Seacht; I am sorry that I brought you back to the cathedral like the dozens of dead or dying girls I’d brought before.” His chin quivered. “I’m sorry that, upon the chancel, you died. I’m sorry she remade you with spring water, and that you bore such loyalty to her for it.”
