“I’m glad you talked to those men,” she blurted. “What did they say? Did it help?” Then she shoved a piece of lamb into her own mouth and chewed. She’d make that lump in her throat go away. And it did taste nice. Cooked meat wasn’t half bad when prepared correctly.

“Uh, it might have. They gave me an idea. I was hoping you’d hear me out.” Madeleine sounded a little unsteady on the last few words, and she reached for her wine with a deep breath, as if bolstering herself for whatever she was about to say. She took a long drink and looked Hæra in the eye. “So. I can’t stay on Jorsay, and you’re not ready to leave. That’s a problem, right?”

I can’t stay. The words crawled down Hæra’s spine, and she couldn’t hold back a shudder. Hopefully Madeleine didn’t notice. “You’ve decided to go, then?” she asked in a low voice.

Madeleine set the wineglass down and began turning it in circles, her fingertips on the flared base. It scraped against the table’s wooden surface. She kept her eyes on the pale-yellow liquid within as she said, “I have no choice. I have to go back—I can’t just abandon my responsibilities. Including my job.”

The lump in Hæra’s throat expanded to fill her lungs and stomach. She shouldn’t have taken that bite of lamb. She had to know something. “Tell me, is that an excuse to go? Is it that you don’t want to stay with me, but you’re saying it’s about your job? I’d rather have the truth.”

Madeleine’s head snapped up. She said firmly, “It’s the truth.”

That was good, but it didn’t help much. “So does that mean you care about your job more than you care about me?” That sounded needy, pathetic, but there didn’t seem to be any other way to interpret Madeleine’s reasoning.

“No!” Madeleine sounded so forceful that Hæra nearly jumped. “I care about you more than I knew I could care about anyone since I lost my family. I’ve learned I don’t have all the answers, and maybe I never will. But I meant what I said last night. I love you.”

They stared at each other. Madeleine’s expression was open and earnest, as if she was willing Hæra to feel her sincerity across the plates of lamb and glasses of wine.

“I meant it too,” Hæra managed. “But if you’re leaving, then how⁠—”

“We should do long distance,” Madeleine said.

Hæra waited for a few more words to end that sentence. They did not. She said uncertainly, “You’re going a long distance. What do you mean?”