“I saw Saint. In Ceros,” I said. “He told me you were gone.” Clove brought the cup to his lips, sipping sharply. “I thought that meant you were dead.” The words fell heavy in the silent room. “Well, I’m not.” I picked up the cup, following the vine of hand-painted flowers along the rim with the tip of my finger. “Can’t help but think,” I said, bringing it to my lips and meeting his eyes through the wisp of steam curling into the air between us, “you might as well be.”
yes fable end his bloodline
