He was terrified to realize he now understood Elan’s pain very well, although hers had quite a different cause.

He reached out to take her hand but she would not let him. “Let me beg you one last time, my lady—please do not do this.” He felt oddly flat. He knew what her response would be, and in fact, he could think of no other way forward at this point except to let the grim machinery turn, but he had to say it.

“You have been a loyal, kind friend, Matt, and I wish nothing more than it could be another way, but there is no escape for me. Hendon will never loose his claws. He savors my pain too much, and he would kill you in an instant if he thought I cared for you. I could not bear that.” She hung her head. “Soon Queen Anissa will be his, too, if she is not already—he pays court to her as though she were already widowed. Nobody knows the depths of that man’s evil.” Elan took a deep breath, then undid the tie of her robe and threw it off, revealing a brilliant blaze that startled him like lightning. She was dressed all in white, like a bride or a phantom.

“Do you have it?” she said. She was anxious, but happy, too, like a woman on her wedding day. “Do you have that which will save me, sweet Matty?”

He swallowed. “I do.” He reached into his pocket and found the swaddled flask. He had replaced the kelp leaf in which it had been wrapped with a square of velvet he had stolen from Puzzle, but it still smelled of the sea.

She wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”

“It does not matter. It is what you wished, my lady. My Elan.” He himself was as fretful as the most callow bridegroom. She looked so beautiful in her white nightgown, even though he could scarcely see her through his tears. “I will administer it for you. I will hold your head.”

She had been staring at the tiny flask with horrified fascination, but now she looked up, confused. “Why?”

He had not thought about this, and for a moment he was flustered. “So that it does not stain your gown, my lady. So your beauty is not…is not spoiled…” He gasped, a sob stuck in his gorge that was so big he feared he would not breathe again.

“Bless you, Matt, you are so sweet to me. I know I am…I know I am not fit for you or any other gods-fearing man…but…but you may love me, if you wish.” She saw that he did not understand. “Make love to me. It will make no difference where I’m bound, and it would be sweet to have such love from you before…before…” A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she smiled and wiped it away. She was the bravest thing Tinwright had ever seen.

His heart squeezed him. “I cannot, Lady. Oh, gods, my beloved Elan! I would like nothing…have thought of…I…” He paused and wiped his forehead, sweaty despite the evening chill. “I cannot. Not this way.” He swallowed. “I hope one day you will understand why and forgive me.”