The door opened. Tessanna let him go and stood as Qurrah entered. Shyness stole away her hatred and anger. She put her back to Jerico, her hands clasped behind her as if she were caught by a parent doing something bad.

“Hello, lover,” she said. “Come to help me play with my pet?”

“Perhaps some other time,” Qurrah said, his eyes glancing about. He saw Jerico’s pain, but the paladin doubted he could guess the reason.

“What is it, then?” Tessanna asked.

“The night is late,” he said. “I’ve found us a place to rest. Will you join me?”

“Of course.”

She put away her dagger and took Qurrah’s hand. As they left, Jerico leaned his head against the wall and did his best to ignore the pain.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. Tessanna turned, her arm raised defensively and her eyes bewildered.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “Whatever his name was, whatever he did to you, I’m sorry.”

She glared as if stabbed, then left the room without a word.

“W hat was that about?” Qurrah asked as he closed the door behind them.

“Just lies,” Tessanna said, apathy stealing over her. “All he knows are lies.”

“When I came in,” he said, then stopped. She turned to him, knowing his worry.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t love him like I love you.”

Qurrah led her to a luxurious room reserved for noble guests, all the while thinking how, coming from her, what she had said meant so very little.

They slept in a luxurious bed with many violet bed sheets. His dreams were bleak, haunted by his brother’s face, always covered with tears. Always, he held the drowned body of his daughter.

Qurrah awoke to the sound of stirring from the small closet. Tessanna was rummaging through it, casting clothes to the floor. She was naked. Light streamed in through the windows.

“What are you doing?” he muttered.