His voice was quiet, almost lost in the wind. "Sometimes I wonder if the past is still choking me. If it'll always be too late, no matter what I do."
I looked at him, and for a second, he didn't look like the cold, unreadable man who'd saved me in battle. He just looked… tired.
"If you keep trying," I said softly, "maybe it won't be too late."
His gaze met mine. There was something sharp in his expression, something vulnerable that he was trying so hard to hide… but I saw it anyway.
Before either of us could say another word, faint music drifted in from the distance. Soft drums, and laughter followed the gentle hum of voices rising in celebration.
"We should go," I said. "Let's go have fun… and forget about our worries."
He nodded and stood to his feet, walking in the direction of the celebration. I followed, brushing my hands against my skirt.
