I heard everything he said, but it was almost too much for me to take in. I’d suspected that much had happened in Trollus, but hearing the names of those I cared about as those who had been harmed, and the names of our enemies as those who were triumphing? My stomach twisted, and I clenched my teeth together to keep quiet.

“But despite everything existing in a miserable mess, I was finally starting to see how all the pieces fit together.” His eyes were fixed on me, but it wasn’t me he was seeing. “I was starting to see how his plan fit together, what his motivations were. The half-bloods supported me, the guilds were rallying to our cause, and even some of the aristocracy were openly siding with me. My structure was rising higher and higher, and my people were finally beginning to work together in a way I always dreamed they would. I was so very close…”

He blinked, and his eyes focused on mine. “And then you called my name, and I left everything that I’d gained behind.”

I recoiled back against the table. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “All I knew was that you were sick, and breaking you free was the only way I could think to help you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He lifted a hand as though to touch me, then let it fall back to his side. “This is what I’m trying to explain, Cécile. That I’m angry, but not at you.”

I let my gaze drop to his chest. “I ruined your plans.”

“No. It wasn’t a choice between me answering your call or staying to finish my work in Trollus. It was the choice between answering your call or both of us dying.” A warm filament of magic caught under my chin, lifting my face up. “The only solution was an impossible one, and yet here we stand. Alive.”

There were countless questions I should have asked, with answers that were important for me to hear and know, but I couldn’t seem to remember any of them. So instead I asked, “Is it how you imagined it would be?”

His eyes flickered shut. “There was a time I thought often about what the world outside of Trollus was like; so much so, that I almost convinced myself that I knew. But the reality…” He broke off. “It is vast.”

I knew to him it must be true, but in that moment, I felt the exact opposite. It was as though the world had shrunk down to the size of the front entrance of my home, and that nothing else existed outside the two of us.

“And in truth,” he continued, “since I lost you, the only thing I’ve thought of was what I’d do if I had another chance to be with you again.” He inhaled, and held the breath, and I clung to the moment with greedy anticipation. “But I never dreamed it would be this hard. That it would hurt to hold you.” He held up one arm, then let it fall limply by his side. “That I wouldn’t be able to feel your skin against my fingertips.”