“I didn’t want mine to be that way,” he confessed. “I was hoping, if it turned out to be you, that you would want to be here. Because you cared for me.” “I do care for you.” It was the truth, and I thought of our summer together, idling by the Sacred Lake and exchanging quips about magic and sorcery. I cared for him then, and I still cared for him now. “Would it be so bad, staying with me?” he said quietly. “I’d make sure you were safe. I could do that for you. I’ve always done that for you. I deserve a fair chance, don’t I?”
