The next thing I remember is waking up late in the night. I was on my cot, still dressed, but I smelled of pipeherb. I had slept heavily; my limbs had the stiff soreness of a too-deep sleep. The gifts were at bay. The herb lingered in my blood just the slightest bit, but even a slight bit has its benefits. I heard them talking in the next room. The walls in the borough are thin, the buildings are cheaply made, and voices carry. I couldn’t help but listen. I hated myself for it, I tried to marshal the strength to leave the apartment, but I couldn’t do it. I heard every word.

Liro offered him everything, anything. Liro offered to come to Rabatha. He offered Dirva a place in the City. He offered to go south, to Vilahna, to Elothnin, anywhere. The Pirate Isles. The archipelago. Money was no object; he’d sell some paintings, all the paintings. Liro said he’d stop painting. Liro said he’d paint all the time if Dirva didn’t want to work. They could hide it, if Dirva wanted, Liro said, but there must be some way to be together. And Dirva told him no.

“But you love me,” Liro said. Ah, and the herb was in me still, but I felt it, and it broke my heart. I think that moment was when I finally unlearned it, when the tapestry of old rules finally unraveled all the way. “I know it. I know you do.”

“I do,” Dirva said. “I have, I will. It’s part of me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is more to me than you. It’s part of me, but this is part of me, too.”

“But why? Why would you choose this?”

Silence lingered for a long time. I am not proud of it, but I strained to hear something, anything. I crept out of bed, ear flat against the wall. I heard nothing: no movement, no rustle of cloth, nothing. Nothing for so long. I have always wondered what happened in that time. Did they look at each other, or did they avoid each other’s gaze? Did they sit side by side, hands joined, or was there a distance between them neither could bring himself to bridge? I have no way of knowing. I hope there was tenderness in that moment, but I have no way of knowing.