Three weeks passed in a way that felt, for the first time since Blackthorn's gates closed behind me, almost gentle.
Rhys found reasons to visit the trade office more often than his duties strictly required, and I found myself, more than once, finishing my work early simply to have more daylight left for whatever walk or quiet conversation the evening might offer. Petra had stopped bothering to hide her knowing looks whenever he appeared in the doorway. Even Corin, usually too focused on ledgers to notice much beyond his own office, had taken to a small, approving nod whenever Rhys came to collect me at the end of a workday.
It should have felt simple. For three weeks, it mostly did.
"You're distracted again," Rhys observed one evening, as we walked the same quiet path near the eastern g
