Qeya River But you can do a kindness and look me in the eyes

A howl so unmistakably Etienne froze Anselm in his tracks. He stifled a gasp, steadying the quiver of his limbs as he made for the border.

Etienne. His eyes grew dark, but even still he could not help the faint quickening of his heart. So much had changed. So much hurt between them. Years and days and weeks of buried hurt and buried feelings that he could not yet hold witness.

And there was the matter of Heda, and Ezra -- the latter which Anselm missed terribly. The former only shrouded his heart with thorny pain. He felt shame, too, to think of them and know he'd let them both down.

But Heda had chosen this life - hadn't she? He wondered how fat and content Amadeo must be, sucking the resources of Rivenwood dry like a spring tick.

Anselm slowed to a stop a long distance away, guarded. There was too much at stake for him to possibly speak his mind.