There was one more thing, and he made himself say it.
They were sitting on the edge of the bed by then, facing each other in the flickering light, her hands cradled in his. He stared at their joined fingers. The petals beneath them shifted with a faint rustle.
"I wish my mother had not died the day I was born," said Alaric.
Salviana went still.
"I was told so all my life. In whispers, behind doors, in the voices people use when they think a child cannot hear. That I took her breath. That whatever loves me, ends." His thumb moved over her knuckles. "I have never believed it. And I have never entirely stopped believing it, either."
"Alaric."
"Queen Sansa told you that Queen Reannon would have loved you. I have turned those words over every night since." A smile, small and crooked and wet, pulled at his mouth. "She was known for her temper, you know. I think she would have laughed at the way you speak to me. I think she would have adored it."
