Wheeling Gull Isle stomklad

his praise made her rankle and tear at the same time. it was the prayer of a patriarch, albeit one that had meant more to heda than any before. and it was insistent in a way that was not forceful. he wanted her to be here. he wanted to her to live there with him. with them.
"i think you help me not to be so angry, bartholomew. remember w-when i told you i wanted to be free?" something grabbed at her throat but she shoved past it, kept going.
"i think i am. i think you did."
heda's chin trembled but she utterly refused to cry, and gazed at him with new, dry eyes.