Moonspear toredig

His shoulders fall and yet at once he is lighter, more at ease than before. Ceara. She is safe, Thank God. Palpable relief flits over his face in ripples, his eyes bittersweet pools of sapphire. Thank you, Llewellyn says gruffly, dipping his head. His heart hammers against his chest; oh, she was saved, she is safe! God. . .

His gaze rises quickly to her face as she speaks again, and gilded brows draw together in a silent, stern fury. Then we will find him, the prince rumbles, and you will have your revenge. Just as he had once promised Ceara vengeance, so now would he extend his services to Hydra.

The dark woman did not need his help--but would, perhaps, welcome it.

He has caused too much harm to remain alive, he continues, shaking his head. Much like Ioan, and yet, not only does the bastard live, but he rules his father's kingdom. He cannot fail to snuff out wickedness again, not like before. This time, the boy will die.