“I’m sorry,” she breathed wordlessly, uncertain
of what else to say when he arrived. She’d been waiting hours for
him to return, but in retrospect he’d been waiting months--years,
even. She no longer knew how much time had passed, but one
could only wait so long. She wouldn’t have blamed him in the
home he built was left abandoned or sold off to another noble
house, but that did not calm the gripping feeling that squeezed
the beating organ within her chest.
“I’m so sorry.” she repeated a second time, shifted to conceal
the clunky, prosthetic arm behind her. There were so many
things she wished to say but was incapable of doing so. He
didn’t deserve this.