Dé’zǐ rasped. His grasp tightened over Zen’s fingers. “I know it has not been an easy path for you to walk, Zen. One marred with the blood from your ancestors’ deeds. I have tried, instead, over the past eleven cycles, to win you over…with love. I have loved you as much as any father can love a son. I never dared hope that you would return it in full…but if you have held any form of affection for me, then perhaps there is hope yet.”
