Herbalists' Cache patience and restraint

morwenna blinked, the weight of his words settling slow, like ash on snow.
you are not staying with me? she asked, voice soft but not without edge—more surprise than hurt, though both lived behind her eyes.
she swallowed it back. all of it. the ache that always came when those she loved walked away, even when it was necessary. especially when it was necessary. still, her gaze drifted to the children, bundled in sleep, innocent and untouched by the schemes of adults.
i understand, she said at last. it was not an accusation. not yet.
when he joked—about fire, about fa’liya—she allowed her lips to twitch into something small and fond, glancing at the child he pointed to. then may the gods keep us all, she murmured. because if she’s the one, the world will burn pretty.
morwenna turned back to him, a moment passing before she added, quietly, just come back. if you can. if it’s safe. that’s all i ask.