The Sentinels the sea alone, with its multiplicity, holds any hope

deirdre thought on his words, and saw no cause to not believe them; larkspur, when frightened, had entered into donnelaith's own woods. at this time, she was not herself, but still, it made the words he spoke entirely believable. blessed by the sea? she tilted her head at this. she could not begrudge him the way he dealt with trespassers on his own lands, she supposed. there was a storm--and there was something you and yours had done that frightened her. bathing one another in blood, she told him this without resentment, but with ample curiosity: what was the purpose of this?

he asked to see her, and deirdre nodded. she has asked to remain with me, and within donnelaith. i think it wise, while she recovers. she is in a wakeless rest that is not death. she said, a smile gracing her features, intrigued the heart within him. but she did not speak ill of you. you cared for her, and deirdre knew it to be so; the girl was not at all malnourished, or sickly, simply terribly frightened.