“You’re wrong.” He kissed my temple. “We deserve this, Tea. Come away with me. Wherever we wind up, I’ll love you till the end of my days. Please.” His voice broke. “I don’t want you to die, Tea. Don’t leave me alone.”

It was selfish.

I was selfish.

But I had already given up far too much.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll run away with you.”

The hail pounding against the roof was the only sound in the room. Kalen’s heartsglass flickered from the purest silver to the deepest, darkest red.

We came together violently, a tangle of limbs, his hard frame against mine as we stumbled blindly into bed. His hands were eager, his fingers experienced from older memories of us. The robes I wore were promptly discarded, his own following after. We clung like starved folk finding safety in each other and drinking our fill as the blizzard outside increased in intensity, matching our desperation.

In the middle of it all, I began to weep. Perhaps the thought of more death unsettled me, the idea finding traction in my skin. My choices shaped the topography of some unseen map; every decision dictated a far-reaching repercussion, rippling into outcomes I did not intend. Did the summoning of an azi set off a king’s madness or the slaying of a beloved mentor? If I had never insulted a young runeberry picker from Murkwick village, might I have not murdered my sister? Had I never raised Fox from the dead, would shadowglass be someone else’s problem, or no problem at all?

If I had done none of them, would I have fallen in love with Kalen?

And that’s what it all boiled down to, didn’t it? Kalen.

“Tea?” Kalen lifted his face, wet from my tears. He brushed slick, dark strands of hair off my face. He lifted himself to lie beside and gathered me close, our fervency no longer important.

“Tea.” On his lips, my name was an anguished prayer. “Don’t cry.” He kissed my eyelids, the salt on my jaw. “Don’t cry.”

Have you ever loved anyone so fiercely you were afraid it might shatter you? It was a blessing and a burden I carried.