Morag tried to stay alert, but after Padrick’s assurance that Ari and Neall were all right, her attention drifted. The next thing she knew, he was helping her out of the saddle, assuring her that the dark horse would be well taken care of, and leading her into the house. From there, the housekeeper and the lady’s maid to Ashk took over, helping her take a quick bath and wash the stink of smoke out of her hair, bundling her into a borrowed nightgown, and feeding her a bowl of stew and bread. She resisted their attempts to put her to bed, insisting that she had to see Ari first.

Ari gave her a tired smile when she entered the guest room and settled on the edge of the bed.

“I’m glad I’m not gentry,” Ari said. “Lady’s maids are very intimidating. Seems every time I twitch, the bed covers get straightened, the pillows get fluffed, and I spend five minutes arguing that the physician and midwife don’t need to come back.”

Morag nodded. “I kept trying to picture how Ashk and her maid deal with each other—and decided I didn’t want to know.”

Ari plucked the bedcovers. “He’s gone? Really gone?”

“Yes, Lucian is really gone.”

“I keep thinking I should be sorry for what happened. But I’m not. That hurts almost as much as knowing he would have killed Neall without a second thought. And for what?”

“Because he was the Lightbringer, and the Fae have catered to the Lord of Fire and Lady of the Moon for so long, he believed he should have what he wanted whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted.”

“People’s lives as trinkets?” Ari’s eyes filled with tears until one slipped down her face. “Did that make him any different from the Inquisitors, Morag? They think of people as trinkets, too—things they can reshape to suit themselves…or destroy if it suits them better.”

“I think he did care about you,” Morag said. “I think he wanted you for himself as much as for Brightwood.”

“I cared about him, too, but not enough to stay, even if the Black Coats hadn’t come to Brightwood.” Ari hesitated. “I wanted to remember him kindly, as a lover I’d had for a little while. A small romance that was outside the world in many ways. Now I’ll remember him as the man who tried to destroy the people I love. As the man I killed.”

There it was, the festering pain Morag had been waiting to lance. “You didn’t kill him, Ari,” she said, resting her hand over Ari’s to stop the nervous plucking. “I did.”

Ari shook her head. “I’m the one who used my gift from the Mother to send the fire back to him, knowing he would burn.”

“And I’m the one who gathered him while he lived.”