Drima frowned. “That was a long, long time ago, Loras. Can't you just let it go?"

Loras shook his head. “This evil man has authority over my… our grandson, Drima. I pleaded with Thorn, begging him to accept Grimm. The gratitude and joy I felt when Thorn accepted him as a Student knew no bounds… gratitude to a forsworn traitor and liar."

"You hurt, Loras, I know,” Drima said, her large eyes pleading. “I've felt your pain many times, but thought it better to say nothing, even after I knew the cause.

"I've shared your anguish, my love; a hundred, a thousand times. Don't I deserve some respite?"

Loras’ stark, rigid expression softened and he leant to cup his wife's chin in his right hand. He gazed into her wide, hopeful eyes for many moments, after which he kissed her on the lips with evident passion. Kargan looked at a knot in the floor for a few moments; he would not dream of lessening the moment's impact by intruding.

At last, from the corner of his eye, Kargan saw the smith pull gently away from his wife and straighten up.

"I love you more than anything in the world, Drima,” Loras said, his voice soft. “I meant every word of my marriage oath to you, and I still do."

Drima started to speak. “In that case, Loras-"

Loras silenced her by raising his right index finger to his lips.

"Please let me finish,” the Questor said. “I consider any sworn vow an unbreakable covenant, Drima; it is how I was brought up. However, before ever I met you, I swore another oath on my eternal soul, and I have suffered these past thirty years, believing that I betrayed it. You have no idea how much pain that caused me; part of me died when I was dismissed from the Guild as a renegade, a forsworn traitor.

"I believe with all my heart that only meeting you stopped me from taking my life. For that, and for your indefatigable, uncomplaining support during the difficult years we have spent together, I thank you more than words can ever express."