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Saeryn looked at Rowenna, recalling her words, “Saeryn, what does Eodwine want?” And here was her answer, in terms as plain as day. His last query stung.
“No, Eodwine,” she said, looking down a moment, and then looking back up at him. “A thousand times, no. You know that; you must know that.” She walked towards him as she spoke. “I did not grow to love you because you were a lord. And I will love you and be happy even if you are not.” She stopped and stood by him. She tried to find words to explain herself and her need, but she didn’t know how. Instead of words, tears came, and she hated her weakness. She stood silent and stiff, saying nothing as one huge tear after another rolled down her face.
“I don’t know why this is so important to me,” she finally managed to say. “I don’t know why – why it is such. . .Eodwine, if you had been here. . .if you could have seen. . .” She looked him in the eye. “I’ve been so unhappy since you have been gone and since Athanar has been lord. I thought you were going to die, and our baby-” She could not continue. A huge, impassable lump in her throat rendered her speechless.
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