An Indulgent Heart
“Every time I try to have a conversation with my Keyholder, I screw it up,” I told Lenz several hours later, while we sat at the dry bar eating chicken pesto over rigatoni. Preparing the meal eased my fury at Henning’s accusations, but distance prompted me to doubt myself. “I know Henning’s my fated mate. I’ve sensed it in my heart, the certainty that I belong with my Keyholder. But now he thinks my Truhtein shackled me here and that you helped him do it.”
I had managed to relate most of our conversation to Lenz, my violent reaction to Henning’s final charge encumbering me with regret. You’ve formed a trauma bond with Herr Liebig. I knew all about trauma bonds. That was one sort of bond I most certainly did not form with Philipp. My beloved master had never hurt me onc
