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October 23 - October 25, 2022
I’m so … something. I can’t even pick apart my own emotions, but I want to give Rhen the finger, and at least that’s better than sobbing.
“For you, my lady, I would have leveled the entire city.”
Have we spent so long seeing each other’s vulnerabilities that we forgot each other’s strengths?
“I’m realizing that I got so caught up in the poor choices you made I forgot that you knew how to make good ones.”
“I wonder if Grey knew that, too. He often realized things about me before I myself ever did.” That longing note is back in his voice, and I shift closer to him. “You … regret what you did.” He nods, then drains the glass. “Very much. For so very many reasons.” He misses him too, I realize.
I am yielding to you, Harper. For you.”
Once again, he’s putting his people first. Not just his people, but the subjects of Syhl Shallow, too. He’s taking the hit so others can thrive. I’ve always thought that his greatest strength is when he’s patient, when he waits, when he doesn’t demand and instead waits for others to give.
“Yield to yourself. Yield to forgiveness. Yield to happiness. Yield to this moment. It’s not hers. It’s yours. It’s mine. It’s ours.”
I know trust is not something you win once, but is instead something you must earn over and over again.
She got away. I lock my thoughts on that. Only that. Lilith can do what she wants to me. Harper got away. She’s safe. Zo will keep her safe.
“You are making me feel like a thief,” he says. “That’s good, because I’m feeling a bit robbed.”
“I’m better with a sword than I am with dice,” I say ruefully. He grins. “I am counting on it.”
Somehow I refrain from slapping her across the face, which would definitely make her question these accusations of kindness.
“I told the captains we will have soldiers readied, but we would wait for the order to come from the queen herself.” I stare at him. I want to throw my arms around his neck. I want to burst into tears. Neither of those options is queenly. I nod,
A small flame has started to burn in my chest, and it’s not love, because that’s been brewing there for a while, and it’s not doubt, because that’s been pounded into submission. Instead, it’s hope. I squeeze his hand.
