Page 176 of Cycle Keeper’s Shadow

“Was there a question in there somewhere?” she asked, a note of humor in her voice. “Or are we just having fun pretending?”

He made a point of not looking at her. “I only mean…where does that leave you?”

She slowed. The darkness obscured her expression so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I’d still have Theordrin to worry about.” She hugged her shoulders, sighing. “That’s a problem for another day.”

“We’ll get there,” he said.

She still hadn’t answered the question. She’d never talked about what she wanted. It mattered more to him than he’d like to admit.

He tried again. “Let’s pretend Theordrin’s gone too. Everyone cheers. We’re safe. What then?”

She hesitated, pulling her cloak snug around her shoulders. “I guess I hadn’t let myself imagine anything past tomorrow.” She laughed but it came out more like a huff of anxious breath. “Maybe I actually show you Thistlehold. Without Witherborn or tyrants, it’s not a terrible place.”

“Can’t say I got much of a first impression,” he admitted.

“You really didn’t…” She suddenly seemed smaller than she’d been before, tentative in a way he hadn’t seen since he’d first met her. “Honestly? If I knew Ma was safe, if Theordrin was gone, if I wasn’t stuck there…”

She closed her mouth like she hadn’t meant to say it that way. “You know I love my family,” she continued. “And Garin. Brunna. Even Pell when he’s had his tea. But Thistlehold was never the home I needed.”

It felt like ages ago now, but he remembered the first time he’d seen her. She’d made herself small, easier to overlook. She carried herself differently now. Confident in her weaving in a way she hadn’t been before—less afraid that others might see it and question her. She’d loved Thistlehold because it was familiar, but even now, it didn’t deserve her.

“Plenty of other places besides Thistlehold.” He shrugged. “Gotta admit, not all of them are great. Maybe there’s a place out there that would appreciate both of us. We could find it…” he said, clearing his throat again, “…together.”

She stared at him.

He heard the promise in his words too late. “Or you, on your own. You can go without me if that’s what you want,” he said in a rush, but somehow it only made it worse.

Wren looked at him so long he started to think it would be safer to simply throw himself in the lake and never come back out again.

Then, in a small voice, she said, “Together would be nice.”

His head bobbed, but he said nothing because speaking suddenly didn’t feel safe. The quiet stretched between them.

“I always wanted to travel, like Tav.” She looked toward the sky, eyes scanning for the bit of moon barely rising over the trees. “Seems like I waited too long.”

He’d be damned if he let her give up that easily.

“Don’t say that.”

There it was again. The quiet resignation toward a fate she hadn’t chosen. It twisted painfully inside him. He hadn’t meant for it to come out as angry as it did, but he wasn’t going to take it back. He couldn’t.

“I’m only being honest,” she murmured, looking away.

“No, you’re acting like you’re already gone.” He thrust his hand back toward the others. “You’re allowed to want that. To want to belong somewhere. You deserve that.”

“Orzen…” They were nearing the cottages now. She walked faster, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what I want. Not when the Cycle is choosing for me.”

“What you want does matter.” He followed her, knowing he was nearing something he shouldn’t touch, but his own frustration was winning. “It matters to me. And no one else gets to decide what that is. You do.”

“What if this is what my weaving is for? This moment?” She sat heavily on the step of their shared porch. “I can’t walk away from a responsibility like that.”

“You can’t keep resigning yourself to a life of less either.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she said bitterly. “When have you ever chosen something for yourself?”

It knocked the air from his lungs. It was why he hated watching her put herself aside. He knew all too well how that went. He’d survived that way long enough for it to hollow him out. Until he’d met her, there hadn’t been a reason want more—to choose something because he desired it, not because he needed it to survive.

He couldn’t stand still, so he paced. She tracked his steps, head bowed like she already regretted pushing him.