“Veria,” he says with all the seriousness and gallantry of youth, still hanging on to my hand. “I swear to protect you as if you were my sister, so long as I live.” “And I,” Ash says from his stool. Oak echoes him a moment later. When I glance at Ash, I find his regard bright and sharp as a gemstone. Oak smiles at me, a kind, gentle look, and then glances down at his hands.
