I became aware that my teeth were chattering with shock as much as cold, and forced myself to continue. To my intense relief I did not see a soul before I was able to close my chamber door behind me and sag against it, feeling utterly exhausted. I told myself a few hours’ sleep would give me the strength to gain some measure of self-control. I forced myself to scribe a brief missive to Analivia, telling her bluntly that I had heard her father and brother were alive, and asking her to ride up to Obernewtyn to speak with me. There was no need to scribe a message to Iriny, since I had already told Ceirwan the gist of it. I farsent for Aras and handed her the message at the door, telling her to deliver it to the messenger when they arrived, and repeating what I wanted said to Iriny.

Then I said, ‘I do not want to be disturbed for the next couple of hours,’ and closed the door. Crossing to the hearth, I knelt before the fire to add more wood, and noticed that my hands were trembling. Then a tear rolled down my cheek. It fell onto the hot stone with a hiss and a wisp of steam and then another fell and another. I made no attempt to staunch the flow of grief that followed. Indeed, I could not have done so had I wished it.

When the tempest passed, I sat on the bench staring into the fire for a long while, half hypnotised by the flickering orange dance of the flames. The thought came to me almost as a strange consolation, that it would have been so much harder to leave Rushton when the time came if he had shown the same extravagant and passionate love as in Sador. Better this way, I told myself, ignoring how the thought of never seeing him again twisted in my gut like a blade.

I would use the journey to school myself to accept our parting so that, when the time came, Rushton would believe my love had waned, too. If only I had not shown my feelings so nakedly in the kitchens, but perhaps if I worked hard enough at seeming indifferent, he might be persuaded to believe he had been mistaken. I could not bear the thought that he might feel guilty or even pity me for loving him, yet the possibility that he might be relieved to think I no longer loved him hurt me, too. I did not resist the pain. I accepted it even as I had once accepted the might and overpowering strength of the great sea, when it had me in its teeth. For if we could not be civil to one another, the long journey to the Red Land would be unendurable.