In my entire life, Saint had never told me that he loved me. He’d fed me, clothed me, and given me a home, but there were limits to how much of him belonged to me. Still, even in those years on Jeval, there was some cord that tied me to my father. That made me feel like he was mine. And that’s what I’d held onto in those minutes, watching the doors of the pier and waiting for him to walk through them.

“It took some doing, getting the logs from the harbor master,” he said as an explanation.

I remembered the streak of blood on his throat. “How’d you get it?”

“You really want to know?”

I leaned back into my chair. “Not really.”

He was quiet as he sipped his tea. The cup looked so small in his hand, the blue paint catching the light and flashing along the rim. He reached into his pocket before he set a folded parchment onto the table. “Your license.”

I stared at it for a moment, half-afraid to touch it. As if it would vanish the moment I read the words. Again, the urge to cry coiled tight in my throat.

“That night.” His voice pierced the silence, but he didn’t look up at me. “I’m not sure how I lost her.”

I straightened and the cup shook in my hand. I set it down.

“She was there one moment, and then…” He breathed. “A squall came over the ship and Isolde was just gone.”

I didn’t miss that he said her name. I didn’t miss the way it sounded on his voice. Like prayer. It threaded through my heart, the stitches pulling tight.

“I didn’t leave you on Jeval because I don’t love you.”

“Saint.” I tried to stop him.

But he ignored me. “I left you there because—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” He looked up then, the blue in his eyes rimmed in red. “I left you there because I have never loved anything in my life like I love you. Not Isolde. Not the trade. Nothing.”

The words seared, filling the tavern and wrapping around me so tight I couldn’t draw breath. They crushed me until I was taking some strange unrecognizable shape.

“I didn’t plan to be a father. I didn’t want to be one. But the first time I held you in my hands, you were so small. I had never been so terrified of anything in my life. I feel like I’ve barely slept since the night you were born.”

I caught a tear at my chin.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”