The night was cold, the wind sharp, and the stars hidden behind a veil of clouds that seemed to press down on the world like a held breath. I stood on the battlements, alone, my hands resting on the cold stone, my eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the glow of the Rift had once pulsed. The light was gone now; Ysolde's healing had seen to that, but I could still feel its presence, a memory etched into my bones.
I had not been sleeping. The weight of my secrets pressed down on me, heavy and unrelenting, stealing my rest, stealing my peace. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Selene's face, felt the blade in my chest, and heard Kaelen's voice saying, "In another life... I would have..." and then nothing.
The sound of footsteps on the stone behind me did not surprise me. I had felt him approaching, his presence a warmth in the cold, a pull that I could not resist.
"Rosalind."
