[ Her surprise registers as an accusation, stinging sharply where it strikes. What he returns is open puzzlement, unguarded and plain. There is none of his later anger, his resentment, only a pale echo of the long shadows which will someday eclipse all the light he has within.
He thinks to their last meeting, but then thinks to all that's yet to unfold. A rejection, or worse? He doesn't know what to begin to say. ]
he'll never deserve it
[ Her surprise registers as an accusation, stinging sharply where it strikes. What he returns is open puzzlement, unguarded and plain. There is none of his later anger, his resentment, only a pale echo of the long shadows which will someday eclipse all the light he has within.
He thinks to their last meeting, but then thinks to all that's yet to unfold. A rejection, or worse? He doesn't know what to begin to say. ]
...have I wronged you in some way, Lady Wen...?