His heart is in my hands, by his own design. And what a fearful, resplendent thing it is. What a horror, what a delight. What a terrible power to hold, even if I surrendered the same to him weeks ago. I gave him the power to ruin me with a word. Instead, he told me I’d make a beautiful bride. Is this what it’s like, to see a road before you and want it? To want the impossible and find—it’s actually within reach?
