Freya's eyebrows rise in disbelief, “And you're going back?"
“If he calls on me, I have to go," an apology and resistance in his voice. His shoulders tighten again, like chills are running up his spine. Freya feels a phantom grip of talons around her heart remembering what it's like being in Aeron's clutches. At his mercy.
Pity blooms deep in her gut, sorrow for Merlyn being tethered to a cruel man. The hurt of betrayal subsides, but the resentment is still. The frustration of not knowing if his actions are genuine or a reflection of Aeron's orders. Not able to stand up to Aeron like Rory can.
Rory stands, gesturing to the door. “Then, go. You don't want to keep your King waiting." His jeering shifts, “But don't come back. You stood there while Aeron hurt Freya. You knew you were safe
