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“I’m with you,” he said, his voice thick. “I promise. I just need to figure some things out.”
Hali’s expression wavered for a moment, her disappointment evident. But then she nodded, and a steely resolve settled over her features. “All right. But not too long. We’re in this together, remember?”
Osric pulled her back down into his arms, and held her close. “Together,” he echoed. But even as he said the words, he knew that there was one truth he could not share with her. The biggest obstacle to her quest for answers was him.
And he was not sure that he could change that.
Chapter
Thirteen
Halizanth found the parchment on her pillow.
It was almost an afterthought, the way it blended in with the rumpled sheets and linens, as if it belonged there. As if it had been waiting for her.
With trembling fingers, she picked it up. Her name—Halizanth—was written on the front in that distinctive, elegant script of his. She’d recognize that handwriting anywhere, and each curve and flourish of the letters brought a rush of memories: of secret notes passed between them, of pages of books turning under his fingertips, of his hands, so strong and sure, guiding hers as they deciphered the coded message together.
She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She missed him. She missed the way he looked at her, as if she held all the answers in the world. She missed the sound of his voice, like the crackle of flames, and the warmth of his body, so cold and distant at first, but slowly, slowly melting under her touch.
With a soft, watery laugh, she unfolded the parchment and turned it over.
My dearest Hali,
I am a coward, and so I must leave you this note, for I cannot bear to look you in the eyes and see the disappointment I know I have earned. I wish more than anything that I could stay, that I could cherish these days with you, but duty calls, and I cannot ignore it.
My mentor has need of me, a journey to undertake, and I do not know how long we will be gone. It is urgent, and I must leave at once, but I could not go without telling you, without begging your forgiveness for my silence.
I will carry the memory of you with me, like a flame in the darkness, and I will hold it close to my heart. I only hope that when I return, you will still be here, and that you can find it in yourself to forgive me.
Yours, now and always,
Osric
Tears blurred Hali’s vision as she read the last words, but she refused to let them fall. She folded the note carefully, and pressed it to her lips. His words, his scent, the faint indentations his quill had left on the parchment—she committed them all to memory, and then she tucked the note away, a secret treasure.
She was a fool, a hopeless, foolish romantic, and she knew it. Knew that his words were only words, and that he might never return. But for now, she would allow herself this small, sweet fantasy. She would hold his note close to her heart, and pretend that it was his hand, and not the ink, that was staining the paper with tears.
And then she noticed the box.
It was a small, unassuming thing, carved from dark wood and inlaid with intricate brass filigree. But there was something about it that drew her to it, a pull she couldn’t quite explain.
Carefully, as if in a dream, she opened the box.
Nestled inside was a necklace, a delicate chain of interlocking metal loops. But it was the pendant that made her gasp—a single, perfect flame, the metal so finely worked that it seemed to flicker and dance with the slightest movement.
She ran her thumb over the pendant, tracing the curves of the flame. It was exquisite, a true work of art, and she knew instantly that it was from him. He was the only one who could create something so beautiful, so full of passion and life.
With trembling hands, she unfastened the necklace and lifted it from the box. It caught the morning light, sending shards of gold dancing across the walls. She held it up, and for a moment, just a moment, she could almost feel his arms around her, his breath warm on her ear.
She set the necklace around her neck, the cool metal resting against her skin. It was a bittersweet weight, a reminder of his absence, but also of his love, his passion, his promise to return.
And as she looked at herself in the mirror, the flame reflected in her eyes, she made a promise of her own.
Hali moved through her morning routine in a daze.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Osric, about the way he spoke to her as if she were the only person in the world. The way he listened, really listened, to her words, her stories, her rambles. The way his calloused hands were so gentle as they traced the curve of her cheek, her shoulder, her hip. The way he held her, like he never wanted to let her go.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
