The chamber was warm, lit low by firelight that softened the stone walls and hid the fractures in them, just as I hoped it would hide the fractures in us. Clay stood near the table, loosening the leather straps of his armour, his movements distracted, mechanical. He had not looked at me properly since we left the council chamber.
I watched him for a moment before I moved.
I crossed the room slowly, deliberately, letting the silence stretch until it pressed against his senses. When I reached him, I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the familiar strength beneath his tunic. Once, that solidity had been my anchor.
“Stay,” I said quietly.
He stilled, his breath hitching for just a second. “I am here.”
“No,” I replied. “You’re not.”
His eyes lifted to mine then, dark and unreadable. “Z
