The weapon was incredibly powerful, enhancing Vincent’s already-significant magical strength. It was his and his alone, rejecting all other wielders. I used to joke that the sword was Vincent’s true greatest love. For most of my life, I think I believed it. Now, the image of Vincent’s bloodied face, straining to look at me in his final breaths, cut through my mind. I loved you from the first moment. My chest was very, very tight.
