The first thing that had caught his eye when he entered the room wasn’t something he’d ever thought would ever bother him. What he got was the folded paper on the pillow, sitting there too neatly for something probably written in anger, and that neatness bothered him more than shouting would have.
He read through its content before skimming through it multiple times; he read it standing up. Then he read it again, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, the paper hanging loose between his fingers like it might fall if he stopped paying attention to it.
It had to be a cruel joke; the elowen stone had been on her hand the whole time. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it all along; during their training sessions, fleeing together, all the time they'd spent together.
An iro
