“I worry that if you come with me,” she said after a tense moment, “you will soon resent me. You will long for your family, and you will ache for your music. I’m unable to give you everything you need, Jack.”

Her words struck him like a sword. Slowly, his hands fell away from her. Old feelings flared in him, the feelings he had carried as a boy, when he had felt unclaimed and unwanted.

“You want me to stay here then?” he said in a flat tone. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

“I want you with me,” Adaira said. “But not if it’s going to destroy you.”

Jack stepped back. The pain in his chest was crushing his lungs, and he struggled to breathe. He was angry at her, for her words held a faint ring of truth. He wanted to be with her, and yet he didn’t want to be away from Mirin and Frae. He didn’t want to surrender his music, all those years of discipline on the mainland going to rot, and yet he couldn’t imagine surrendering Adaira.

Agonized, he met her gaze, and he saw that she was composed, just as she had been the first day he had seen her, weeks ago. Her guard was in place; her emotions were tamed. She had accepted this separation, and the distance suddenly yawned between them.

“As you wish then,” he rasped.

She stared at him a long moment, and he thought she might change her mind. Perhaps she wasn’t as firm in her beliefs as she sounded. Perhaps she could also taste the sour tang of regret and remorse that would haunt them from this decision, for years to come.

He watched as Adaira opened her mouth, but with a gasp, she caught her words, turned, and fled the storehouse, as if she couldn’t bear to look upon him.

The sunlight poured in.

Jack stood frozen within its warmth until the pain boiled in his chest. He strode from the storehouse, looking for her.

Adaira was on her horse, following Innes and the western guards down the hill. Soon, she would melt into the woods and shadows. Jack fought the urge to chase after her.

He paused in the grass, waiting for Adaira to glance behind. To look at him one more time. If she did, he would follow her into the west. His heart was beating in his throat as his eyes remained fixed on her. The long waves of her hair, the proud posture of her shoulders.

Her horse stepped into the river. She was almost at the woods.

She never looked back.