Page 39 of The Last Remaining Light

“It absolutely is.”

Elowynn turned her attention back to the sea, though not before he caught the flush of color spreading across her cheeks and up the delicate curve of her ears. Usually, he loved the sight of it. Loved knowing he had managed to fluster her.

But now, understanding why it happened only left bitterness sitting like stones in his chest.

“I have been busy,” she finally replied.

“You've been avoiding me, Elowynn.”

The words lodged between them, and he wanted to rage at the sky. The sea. The stars. His body vibrated with tension as he begged her with his eyes to talk to him.

To look at him.

Her throat bobbed delicately as she swallowed. “I am trying not to,” she said.

Stars above, at least she was honest.

Caelyn removed his hands from his pockets and kept them hanging loosely at his sides. He finally asked the one thing he had been wanting to ask for moons.

“Are you afraid of me?”

The question came out calmer than he felt, and Elowynn snapped her eyes to his, looking as if he had struck her.

“No,” she breathed quickly. Too quickly. Then, softer, she added:

“…not entirely.”

The honesty, while Caelyn appreciated it, nearly gutted him.

Some foolish part of him had still hoped he was imagining it. That he had only been hyperaware of her absence because he noticed everything when it came to her.

But hearing the admission aloud left him feeling empty.

Elowynn pressed the books tighter against her chest like she was seeking comfort from them. “Agatha has been teaching me more about Nulls,” she admitted.

Caelyn huffed out a humorless laugh beneath his breath. “Well, that sounds encouraging.”

“She said most records contradict one another.”

He nodded, looking away from her haunting eyes and toward his feet now. “They do. We knew that, though.”

Elowynn didn't look away from him. “She also said very few survive long enough to understand what they are.”

That one landed harder than Caelyn wanted to admit. He looked back toward the lantern pylon rather than her face.

“Probably because people kill them first,” he said dryly.

When he looked back toward her, Elowynn looked stunned in horror.

“Caelyn…” she whispered, crystalline eyes welling with tears.

“It’s fine, El.” His voice remained calm. “That’s just what happens.”

“But Lumenshire—”

“—is not most places. I know,” he finished for her.

Most places would have dragged him into the streets and slit his throat the moment the starway reacted around him. He knew that.