And in that moment she wanted nothing more in the
world than to nestle against him, to feel him put his arm around her
protectively, kiss her gently, and tell her it would be all right.
Kataya no longer mattered. This mattered. She wanted to give herself
to him, as Kalus had to her rival. Even bear him a child..... And
suddenly she knew that was it. His sorrow. Not a loving spouse
perhaps, but a child lost. How much more terrible and bitter that
sting, to lose one innocent, and with a lifetime ahead of him. Or her.
Tears welled in her eyes.
'I'm so sorry,' she said, both understanding.
'Yes. It would have been harder. But for you.'
And in that moment, to be so close, their sides lightly touching, was a
blessed intimacy for which no words exist, and in which there is no
stain. She leaned closer to examine his work, though if the page before
him were blank she would still have done the same.
'What are you working on, Miles?' She was the only one among the
company who called him by his first name, and then only in private.
Such was the respect they all held for him, who had sacrificed so much
for their well-being. And she could not restrain herself from touching
him lightly on the arm. He turned toward her gratefully, smiling, then
turned back to his work, so deeply reluctant to complicate or even
injure her young life.
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