Deepwood Weald [m] red flax

Simbelmyne's curtness took him by surprise. His ears flew back in brief confusion. For a moment, he decided that she must be more worried about Sulukinak than he'd thought. Then he remembered Cen's eyes on her and felt bowled over by guilt and fury.

"I do not know," he admitted in a low voice, lifting his gaze to take in the seal hunter's scarred visage once more. "He has disrespected my wife. He has disrespected you."

He ground his teeth together. He didn't know if he could look past these things. Would it make any difference? Would he be betraying Sulukinak's confidence? Would he be betraying this unknown wife, who might one day sob over lost children because he had not wanted to get involved?

He dipped his head in thanks as Chakliux outlined his plans; it sounded like there would have needed to be investigations even if Sulukinak had not been involved — but Dutch still felt the warmth of the seal hunter's loyalty and support. It made Simbelmyne's absence more prominent, and he, too, looked in the direction she had gone.

"Any advice?" he asked the seasoned husband, trying for levity and landing somewhere just west of gloomy instead.