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At least she had gotten to see Lyri shape his body into the man he had always been. She had immediately called for the royal healthkeeper when he finally told her, years after he had told me, his hand sweating in mine the night we had gone to her chamber for him to finally tell her that he was her son, not her daughter.
“I haven’t really achieved much, but making the decision to come back here, to meet you properly, is the thing I’m most proud of in my life,” he told me quietly. “I love you, Lor. I don’t regret any of it. And that… that helps. It helps me accept what”—his breath shuddered out of him—“what’s going to happen. It was all worth it. I love you.”
“And we still have a bit more time,” he said as he pulled back, smoothing my hair from my damp face. “Let’s do something fun tomorrow. Well, as fun as it can get in this room.” He chuckled. “We’ll do whatever you want,” I whispered, twining our fingers together on the pillow between us and kissing his knuckles. “Anything. We will spend the whole day together.” He smiled back drowsily, eyes already slipping shut, face lined with exhaustion after his emotional onslaught. “Sounds nice.” The next morning, he didn’t wake up.
“Please.” Sinking to my knees, I clutched her hand, pressing my forehead to the back of it. It was something the Moric should never, ever do—the lowliest form of supplication. “Please don’t let him be taken from me. Please.” “I will do everything I can, Moric,” she said thickly, squeezing my shaking fingers.
“I would wait my whole life for you,” he said quietly, trying to steady his voice even as tears continued to stream freely down his cheeks. He pressed his lips to my hand again. “I would wait forever for you, Jugs.”

