The Draug had followed Lantal. It burst through the other door with a roar. The [Cook] pushed Lantal.

Gently. As if he didn’t have the strength to do anything more.

“Go to them, milord. I’ll be right here.”

“Edert.”

The [Lord] turned back to the man.

“Noelictus keep you.”

He ran. Lantal heard the Draug roaring and a bellow from Edert for half a minute. Then silence.

There was only one place in the entire keep that Lantal could imagine they’d gone. Their rooms on the third floor. He took the stairs, passing by servants. Guards. Friends, who waved him on. Their last words burned in his ears.

The door was locked. Of course. Lantal stood outside of it. Panting. He spoke.

“Risel? Culin? Sasi?”

“Lantal!”

Someone moved a chair. The door was flung open. Lantal stumbled inside.

“I’m so sorry. I tried. I—”

“I know.”

Risel held him for a second. She was warm. Warmer than anything else. It was cold, turning to winter.

The last fall harvests would be coming in soon.

Lantal wished he could have seen them. Plump fields. Laughing faces. He looked down as Risel went to barricade the door.

Sasi and Culin stood there. Their faces were drained of color, as Cara’s had been. Lantal knelt.

“I should have never made you leave Menorome, eh? I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Sasi grabbed her father. Culin clutched at the bloody armor. Lantal looked at his daughter. She had tears in her eyes.

“For what?”

He closed his eyes and held her close. Trying to make a moment last forever. Trying to remember everything.

Then he stood and looked around the room. For an escape. For something. For a miracle.

There was nothing. Just his home. Nothing special. The door to the balcony was shut; the door to the hallway locked and barricaded. No one fought in the corridor anymore.

There the [Lord] stood. He looked at his wife. Risel stood there, trying to smile. Tears in her eyes.

“Help me drag something else in front of the door, Lantal. You too, Culin, Sasi.”

They pushed the bed up against the door, and the dresser. Together. Then? Then Lantal turned to Risel.

“Do you have…?”

She had a shortsword and buckler, the edges touched by blood. Had she fought? Risel? She was from the capital. Lantal just had his longsword. He focused on her, and they stood together. Spoke. But there was nothing left to say beyond the obvious.

“I love you. I wish we had never met.”

She struck his shoulder, weakly.

“I regret nothing you ever did.”

Something struck the door. Lantal whirled. He brought up his sword. There he stood.

“Stay behind me, Risel. Culin, Sasi—stay back.”

They hid. Lantal wanted to turn his head. But now—he was focused on the door. He heard Risel breathing, murmuring to the children. Culin weeping. Sasi saying something.