He pulled it open, so hard the dooryelped—or perhaps that was...
“What in the?—”
It was her voice.
It was Ezer, standing there just on the other side.
“Ezer,” hebreathed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He hadn’t seen her since yesterday. He knew his warrior’s braid was loose, he knew he looked like a man on the fringes of his own sanity, for he hadn’t pressed his cloak...and for the first time he didn’t care about the wrinkles one bit. And here he was, his hand still on the door, his mouth hanging half-open in shock.
Seeing her...
He felt like he could finallybreatheagain, even though she must hate him.
Even though it was his own damned fault for failing.
Again.
“I was...”
Gods, where were his words? Why wasn’t his tongue working? Why wasn’t his mind able to form a coherent thought?
Get it together!his mind hissed.
“I came to apologize,” he blurted.
“Why?” Ezer asked.
So small, so bold and lovely as she glared up at him.
He didn’t care how bad it hurt. At least she was looking at him again.
“Because I lied to you,” he said. “Because you deserved to know the truth, even if it would break you.”
“Do I look broken to you?” Ezer asked. She stepped out of the doorway, closing it behind her. “Do I look like some fragile, feeble thing?”
“No,” he whispered.
She couldn’t be further frombroken.
He was the broken one.
He was the one who needed to have the pieces of him put back together again.
“You look brave,” Arawn said. “You look bold, and...” He paused. “Andangry,Ezer, which you have every right to be. I shouldn’t have lied. They teach us that as one of the first laws. We promise to uphold it when we take our vows and despite myself, when it came to you...I still broke it.”
“Why,” she said again.
Not a question.
A demand.
“Because...”
“One chance, Arawn.” She held up a finger; her eyes locked on his. “You have one chance right now, and if you do not tell me the truth...I will walk away from you. I will leave this place tomorrow, come sunrise, and you willneversee me again. Even if I survive.”
