Nyktos did understand my actions. He accepted them. Two things even I knew were far more important than forgiveness. Nyktos knew me. Heard me. And he made sure I understood that a part of me was good. That he didn’t see me as a ghost. Or a monster. He saw me, as someone strong and brave with or without the embers, and I now knew he’d been telling the truth when he claimed to be angrier about what he believed to be my lack of regard for my life. That he cared despite his resolve not to see me as anything more than a Consort in title only. Despite his very real inability to love. And because of
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