Chapter 3: An Ever Present Danger
In the dark of the early morning, I sat and pressed my palm down into the sand. Each of my fingers were dug in before I lifted my hand up from the impression.
“My Lord.” Standing over me, Inze succeeded in grabbing my attention and asked, “What are you doing?”
He wanted to know and I thought about giving him his answer. A glance down at my impression in the sand later, I decided.
“A whole hand left a shallow mark,” I pointed down at the mentioned mark. “The fingers, being smaller than the hand, had done better at leaving their marks.”
“I see, my Lord, that you require more sleep.” His suggestion had caught me off guard.
“Why do think so?” I wanted to know, so I had asked.
“You are playing in the sand and telling me of its significance.” He waved a hand before me to obtain my attention, then poked a single finger straight down into the sand. “A hole in the sand. Nothing more.”
“That is not why I brought it up.” I sighed and attempted to explain. “Was it the finger or the hand that dug the hole?”
“That is wrong,” he had stated.
“What?” I wondered, ’What is wrong?’
“Forgive my bluntness, my Lord,” he said and remained silent.
This had me curious and I told him as much. “How am I wrong?”
A silent moment longer and I gave his shoulder a shove to provoke some words out of him. I didn’t care if these words would be relevant to my topic or not, I had to get him talking. If I could do that, I’d steer him back onto explaining why I was wrong.
“My Lord,” he said as his head bowed, but his eyes never lowered from where he looked upon me. “Listen carefully. If you wish to speak philosophical to me, think first.” He pointed back towards my impression in the sand. “Not the hand or fingers, but you. Had someone asked me what I had witnessed, I would tell them...” He knelt down by my side and, more specifically, said, “You left the mark.”
That was truer than my own line of thoughts. “Yes… I suppose that is so.”
“It is, but…” He quieted and asked, “My Lord, may I know what is on your mind?”
“Not the finger or hand, but me. This mark was made by my actions.” A smirk played across my lips as I went on with my guardian’s sound reasoning. “My father acted to strengthen the borders of our duchy, which is part of our kingdom, and with such an attachment, an action from our sovereign King. If there are those who work against my father, then they act against all of Lotharingia.”
“Stop,” he said and bowed his head in submission. “Forget I asked. My Lord, if you wish, I will claim to be wrong about the impression --.”
“You are not wrong,” I interrupted him and thought aloud. “It is dangerous to have such thoughts, but I wonder why our enemies still live? This is treason, no?”
“Said implications can direct suspicion, but not judgement,” he explained. “My Lord, it would take evidence for further investigation.”
“A mark,” I voiced my thoughts. “I believe that is why my father has stayed away from home for so long. He is their target, and he is aware of this. They surround us, but so long as their target is on the move, they won’t leave their mark here.”
“We should head back to the manor.” My thoughts apparently reminded my guardian of me also being a target.
As for those people -- our enemies -- I thought and wondered, ’Would they come from across the seas or neighbors crossing the countryside?’ I was well aware that dangers existed here, there, and everywhere.
Most of all, I was always told of the danger that stomped and left their mark of terror into the ground every time they set a foot down here. A chilly reminder of a powerful foe that came from afar, but would always be nearby.
The sea was their ally.
Everyone I knew, and more I’d yet to meet, would always look out to the sea with a shiver of fear. When I was younger, I wondered, ‘Maybe they expected legendary creatures?’ My mother had told me that such beasts existed. The kind that come from the great ocean depths. A serpent, for example, with its proudly crowned head held high and spitting its venomous fear down on all those who dared to look.
Something like that sounded like a nightmare to me. Nightmares don’t scare me, otherwise, earlier, I’d have been woken up screaming directly up in Inze’s face. But I wouldn’t count out whatever caused those nightmares.
My mother, I would always fear, but she was not an enemy. Our enemies...
I never knew why I should always be wary of the sea. All I knew was my people expected to see these “dragons” slithering their long wooden bodies up on the beaches, scraping their tacked-together broad bellies across the sand and shoals at any given time. And we were supposed to be ready for them. That I should prepare myself.
I’d yet to hear how to properly await the coming of those Arctic dragons from across the seas. But I did think of a way to face the sea. A more productive way than cowering in the corner with my thumbs securely tucked beneath me.
In my way, I did much more than sit around and watch the sea. Those malicious imaginations of the townspeople could go off and torment some other soul. I had fun out here. I encouraged myself to enjoy the sea. Not watching and waiting. I wondered, ‘Why is that?
“Inze?” I looked down at the hand impression for a moment.
“Yes, my Lord?” He had stood back up and appeared to be readied for us to leave.
“Why should I prepare to fight men when I could be out fighting against the tide and cutting through the waves?” I didn’t understand why I couldn’t be who I was meant to be. “I should’ve been doing what all others boys would do.”
“My Lord, I do not understand what… Sylphet, any man who comes here will be greeted with my blade. If you are thinking of staying here any longer...” I quickly shook my head in denial. He misunderstood, but I didn’t interrupt to correct him. “It is for that reason we should leave now. If we were to be confronted, that man may well have the advantage against me of obtaining a full night’s rest.”
All other boys would’ve argued with him and continued their fun. As this was on my mind, I spoke of it. “What I should’ve, and I’d like to believe any boy would be doing regularly, even if I wasn’t a child any longer --”
“Sylphet, you are not --”
“Just to go play.” Once more, I interrupted him. I looked out at the dark sea. It had dangers, yes, but I wished to be ignorant. “To act like a kid a little longer.”
“...May I ask why?” I had thought he’d be silent on the subject. That the moment I finished speaking, he’d force me to return.
“Why?” Instead, he gave me the opportunity to speak my mind. “To make up for lost time.”
It then that I wondered, ‘How did I play around when, at any moment, there could be dragonships coming ashore?’ The answer was easy…
Almost every morning, I would return to my beach, running and leaping to challenge each wave crashing against me. I dove and drove my arms up high out of the waters, and sometimes gave a little wave to the heavens. I swam against the currents, or made a turn and drifted afloat with the rocking of the sea. I was fit enough now to handle the natural strength crashing or flowing against or with me without somebody at my side. And I was smart enough to keep away from the dangers of the sea.
At least, I'd like to think I had enough intelligence to keep myself safe. But that was how I watch and waited. I said, “I’d play.”
To be clear: dangerous or not, I had fun while I could out on the beach and the sea.
Beyond these rippling waters of darkness, for me to gaze out and imagine what all I could see, that gave me a thrill. Again, I wondered, ’Why?’ Because I knew what lay across the channel. I was aware of a massive island, surrounded by a small sister islands and smaller lands further out, but each were made great with its own king. Especially the one of Wessex. He was an inspiration to me. Further than that, the emerald island, the isle called Eire was a formidable land against invaders. Those stalwart Saex and Irish kept their lush world safe from all greedy little fingers.
“Oh, how I’d wished to one day bring inspiration like that to my neighbors. They’d might grow a spine!” I looked back to Inze and saw a face of confusion. I felt sorry that he could not read my mind.
My mother could. I supposed I was still too accustomed to her.
So I spoke more of my mind for him to know. “Ever further to the north, the Strathclyde and Gallowglasses were stranded and alone, cut off from the Christian world, but they kept those Norse away on their own side of the frigid ocean.”
“Yes?” I still saw the confusion on his face.
Sadly, I smiled at him, and elaborated. “Maybe I could’ve learned a trick or two about how they did it.”
In truth, I had an idea how, but to become formidable as they were meant to do the impossible. Even my mother, with her power unveiled, failed.
Unity was found in those lands because of a common enemy. An enemy across the seas. But that didn’t mean there were no enemies to be found here. For me to turn my back on the country I called home was dangerous. We were far from being united, and the common foe hadn’t been in full force on our shores since… Well, since before I was born.
“Those invaders had visited us once, and everyone loved reminding me of that time, but we were united then.” I wanted to remain a child, but I couldn’t. Not with dangers everywhere. “Now we were a divided realm surrounded by too many different borders.” Much worse than that, we were a divided people within our own realm. And I said as much aloud. “There are far too many within our borders to name and point out their differences.”
But I could easily indicate our major neighbors and how they handled themselves differently. Our opinions clashed often enough to know the line would one day be crossed. It was just a question who would step upon whose land first.
“To our west, Flanders.” I remembered they had their own way of handling affairs of the sea. “Keep everyone out.”
Somehow, I believed that included inland as well. So we couldn't possibly rely on their help any longer when we might need it the most. In fact, our relations had become so terrible, they became less hospitable than those savages on their dragon-prowed ships.
We were welcoming, and that caused Flanders to turn from us. “The problem is inviting those who would be willing to cooperate with us.”
“My Lord,” I blinked and focused more on him as he spoke. “Perhaps speak as we walk?”
With a heavy sigh, I conceded. That did not mean I readily prepared to leave.
My thoughts were still wandering over the dangers around us. And what reason those dangers had for coming here.
Such land, rich farms that stretch around the entire province, but all of it stank of the farm. Without an end, all that my father owned had farms to feed an ever-growing army. Past his borders were those who scoped what they wished to possess. So instead of driving the invaders out, we invited them in.
“At least, those who would be willing to become one of us rather than remain a Viking,” I said as if my guardian never interrupted me. I decided to keep quiet -- not to be mistaken for silence -- and look about myself as if readying to leave. I thought about the known enemy, and said, “The Norse.”
Speaking of which, further to the north and east was Brunswick, a place that had the influence of the Norse, and our Frankish customs, also the not forgotten traditional Saxons. Two out of those three cultures made them a hostile neighbor.
“We are stuck in the middle,” I said. I thought about the Frisian coast, where a very tight spot could explode under the Frankish west, Germanic east, and Viking north. “They want a change of hands. As if they could do better with the land my father, Duke Agnerald de Chaumontois, and his father before him had already accomplished.”
When the day came, I would have to live up to those expectations. But for now, I had to hear rumors from Flanders, bickering from Brunswick, and chilly winds from Scandinavia.
“To be quite literally frank, I wouldn’t mind if they’d all shut up and live with what they already had.” After I said it, I realized I should never speak of that out loud again.
The reason why was because my thoughts on that subject. If I had to explain, I would cause someone to mistake me for a sympathizer of the Flemish.
In wonder, I thought, ’Then what do I mean?’
“I, Sylphet de Chaumontois, have an appreciation for the beauties of the untamed wilds and undiscovered seas,” I proclaimed aloud. As I did so, I lifted my eyes up to see if Inze was still paying attention to me or if I were indulging myself with this conversation.
He was brushing his hand over the book I discovered, clearing it of the sand that had collected on it overnight. But, as a sign he was listening, he glanced my way.
So I continued. “A forest would be little more than wood or more potential farmland to the lords.” A means of achieving their own goal of civility. “For me, I valued the natural growths and movements when left untouched by our sinful hands.”
Inze asked, “What does that mean, my Lord?”
And I answered, “The land and sea are free to be as they were for ages.”
At least, that was my opinion. Maybe nothing more than a youthful dream.
That made me wonder, ’Why do I favor the vivid greens and blues of the world over our conquest for civilization?’ To me, the answer was simple. I could go off and discover something old, but maybe it was new to the world. I thought, ’Something hidden beyond those ancient trees, maybe?’ I would’ve lost myself in those kind of woods. But it would be a wonderful loss of time and more. Wondrous things could always be found where least expected. And, at times, unbelievable treasures the world never would’ve thought existed could’ve been discovered. I sometimes wondered, ’Maybe by studying the seasons, we would’ve found a new fruit to enjoy?’ One would never know without taking the time to look and explore.
“Unfortunately, with the pressure of an ever-present war looming over us all, those forests would be whittled away to stumps,” I said, and after a moment of silent consideration, added, “...and the seas were only seen as a means of travel for friend or foe.”
“Either I am too tired to understand,” I had said, and when he lowered his head to be level with mine, added, “...or you are too tired to speak sensibly, my Lord.”
“Maybe,” was my only response to that. I didn’t want to entirely explain to him why I started this conversation.
Untamed. I wanted to be a part of that world. Not of this land, but out there in the vast unknown where there existed a known danger.
That was maybe why I enjoyed watching the ocean so much more. Forests could be flattened, but there would never be a way to drain the joy of explorations over, across, and beneath those indomitable waves. I’d found so many various trinkets that had washed up on the beaches that I’d gathered and started a collection. If I dove down into and along the salty shore, I could be greeted by the many aquatic lives that still dominated the seas better than Man could. Each and every day was something different. Never the same scene, challenge, collectable, life, or experience.
Everything was brand new. I just had to look, have some fun, and I’d accidentally make a discovery.
If the people would give it a chance, the sea would welcome them as it had the Vikings.
If I was given a chance, I could become someone so much more than what was expected of me. I wanted to be free.
Today, I was in no other place than where I would regularly be found, but it was always gifting me with a new show. Finishing my dallying and rubbing the sands off of me, I grabbed a hold of my pants and slipped them on quickly. After I’d secured them, I turned my attention to the beach in search of a memorable scene.
But I became distracted. A glimpse at a sky, not the sky, but a reflection in a sandy puddle the tide had left behind. I was fascinated by the differences the water had shown the dark heavens. Instead of a constellation of brightly lit stars, I saw the rising red hues glaze over the clouds on that shimmering surface.
The red water reminded me, once we’d return home, I'd have a hot bath ready to dip in and rinse off the day's play.
"For the morrow, I'll have to be presentable and in my best." This time, I was speaking to myself.
Inze was aware I've always tried speaking my mind on whatever I thought, so others would know me well. Unlike now, sometimes there was never anyone around to listen. When I thought about it, that could be a good thing if I had not very fond thoughts on my mind... Like my ideal world of the untamed. Thinking out loud, that would have to become in my nature. I thought, ’When meeting someone, it would always be best to know the person for who they really were, wouldn’t it?’ That's why I enjoyed letting everyone know how I honestly felt about them, or anything, whether they liked it or not. I was certain they appreciated the honesty, even though they might appreciate me less.
Luckily I’d never encountered a danger by a man’s hand. At least, I never had when alone. Just in case I ever did, I'd never be left alone.
Looking at Inze, my watchdog, guardian, and sometimes mentor, I reflected. He was always close enough to keep a watch on me. As I approached him, he held the book in his hands, flipping the pages of it before he closed the cover and offered it over to me. Looking it over, sandy and worn, I tried to recall if this book was something I had brought out here long ago and forgotten.
My mother had read this to me, so that told enough of who this book belongs to. But I didn’t remember bringing it here. And, I likely had not, or I’d had my ears drumming from a harsh lesson on responsibility again. I would never have forgotten something like that.
"I don't recall bringing this with me." My mentor silently responded to that with a shrug, smiled and gestured for us to head back home. "Likely, it was one of the servants. Which one?" This time, I shrugged and stowed the book beneath my between my arm.
The feel of its cover against my bare ribs was oddly warm. I supposed that was from Inze holding it for me while I delayed our departure. His warmth...
"Lord, you will wet the book." At that fact, he pulled a rag out for me to wrap the book up.
At the mention of “wet,” I looked back to see the crushing waves come closer to me. The ocean had been black and there soon would be no longer than a few shades left of darkness before the light came to shine on water or sand. Looking out farther to the heart of the sea, I promised myself to return to the sea again in the brightly lit morning, but not at this spot of sunshine.
With that in mind, I carried myself in a peculiar manner on my walk back to the manor. “I’m not looking forward to this morning.” Inze didn’t respond and I supposed he wouldn’t know a proper way to do so.
He never brought up the subject on my mother. I believed it was because he had been made aware of what she planned for him. If I hadn’t killed her…
For a long moment, I stopped, closed my eyes, and stood silently to calm down. I sought out something else to think about.
Then I opened my eyes when I heard, “My Lord?” I reacted by turning to openly look the man over.
The man was someone I would’ve aspired to be… If I were a boy. He was sometimes silent with a set firm jaw. Inze had features that could only have been matched by the chiseled stonework by ancient artists surrounding Rome. He was rugged, powerful and lean, and with quick unstoppable hands. An odd pair of colors highlighted his head and face: black and red. His hair was short and dark as the midnight sky had been, but his mustache and beard were of fire as the morning sky soon would be. Strongly statured with a stance of implacable confidence, and when he did speak, it was with a hard and noble air that commanded respect.
A shame he couldn’t garner the same response from me. I regularly provoked him with banter. Him, matured into adulthood, and me, still acting like a spoiled child.
“I’m fine,” I said and resumed walking.
As the night’s darkness fought a losing battle to maintain its hold on the morning, I saw and thought with distress. How I’d grow so very differently than Inze.
The only thing that the two of us had in common was we were handsomely bronzed. That would be the only feature of Inze I’d ever meet. And I had to wonder, ‘How is it that he tolerated kneeling down to someone like me?’
I was in a silent gloom when Inze spoke up. “Lord, you may want to start wearing… more.”
“More?” On the trail back to the road to home, I stopped once more to look up at him. “I’m not cold.”
He sighed and explained, “For decency on your return to the town and its people.”
With a shrug, I said, “I’ll consider your suggestion.”
For some reason, he pressed the matter. “Lord, please consider my suggestion carefully.”
“I told you. I will.” I wasn’t sure what to make of this, so I asked him. “Inze, be blunt.”
“Will you listen?” I simply smiled and shrugged in response. “Lord, forgive me for pointing this out.” Right in front of me, he kneeled down and laid his hand on my chest. And I was shocked!
As I jumped a step away from him, I asked, “What was that?”
The word that came out of his honest mouth shocked me worse than his touch. “Breasts.” He stood back up and took his place by my side. “Small, and those very stiff. I would say barely there, but noticeable.”
A surge of heated anger rose up in me, but I didn’t speak until I cooled my head. “Tell me next time you notice something peculiar about me. Don’t point, poke, or feel it out. Understood?”
“I wanted to --”
“Then why did you not!” I was nearly ready to strike him with a closed fist --
-- and he held his hands up in open surrender. “I didn’t find it appropriate.”
“And touching me was?!” I swung at him, but he easily eluded my lashing hand.
“I had to be certain what I saw was not a trick of the light, or lack there of it.” I inhaled sharply and glared at him with such a fury that he took a step back.
In a calmly restrained voice, I asked, “How long have you been ‘uncertain’ of what you saw?”
“When you entered your teens.” Once he said that, I stepped straight up to him with a bare inch between us.
“Since I was twelve!?”
“No, I said when you entered your teens. That would have made you --”
“Thirteen! I know! Have mercy on me -- INZE! You... oh, you --”
“How have you not taken notice?” He had this unbelieving tone in his voice.
That tone only furthered to upset me. I clamped shut my mouth and was dangerously near hyperventilating with an animosity akin to murderous rage.
“I don’t -- do you… Inze, I don’t do that! You know I’m a boy!” He gave me a look that told me otherwise. “Inze!”
“Lord, forgive me.” That only infuriated me more as his tone told me he went straight back to being proper rather than being himself.
If my body was that of a boy, I would’ve happily inspected my growth every day to see how well I fared, increasing in size and strength, but I didn’t. Any time I glanced at my mirror, or any reflection available in the manor, I was repulsed by what I saw and made an effort to look elsewhere. I didn’t want this.
And I began to tell him my thoughts on that matter. “Inze, I do not entertain the thoughts of exploring my own body every --”
“Am I forgiven?” He interrupted me with an uncomfortable tone, so I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
I raised a mockingly curious brow as I looked up at him and asked: “Are you joking?”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He respectfully bowed his head down to me before gesturing to the trail ahead of us. “Shall we continue back to the hall?”
“Manor.”
“Lord, forgive me.” This he said without his regular servile air or mannered patience, but spoken behind both of his hands in an exhausted sigh of menace. “I am tired, but from all this nonsense I’ve heard from you, I believe you are in need of more sleep than I.”
Once he finished his claim about us, his hands dropped away from his face to reveal red eyes. Both of his eyes had a bloodshot appearance, but I didn’t know why. I wondered, ’From a rough night’s sleep?’
“Was I too loud for you to sleep?” I knew this was stupid, but I had been nudged further and further towards an edge.
Someplace that fell keenly away into obscurity. A place where my mind failed to warn me of the potential risk I placed myself in.
“No!” Now he shouted, but after an angry moment growling at himself, he immediately had quieted. “You woke me and I could not ignore… I had to --”
“That wasn’t me!” I wanted him to understand. So I began to explain, “My sleep is disturbed by --”
“The Lady of Groningen,” he interrupted, but was correct on whom perverted my dreams. “You are not the only one who had their sleep invaded.” That was news to me. “Even beyond your mother’s death, I am shown… I am always reminded to one day obey her command.”
“Inze, what did she show you?” He hesitated to tell me what he’d seen and I desired to know what my mother had done. “Shown what?”
“My Lord, please --”
“What did she show you?!” If I had to, I would refuse to return to the manor until he fessed up.
Inze remained silent for awhile, but not idle. He paced from one bare tree to another with lifeless leaves bundled around its base. I watched and waited, and when he would turn towards the manor’s general direction, I shifted to stand in a way as to bar any further travel.
Finally, after stalling long enough for the sunshine to peek down through the trees, he confessed, “...You.”
“Me?” I had to hear more of this. “What about me?”
“The woman you would become.” Now that wasn’t something I wanted to know, but it was my fault for I did ask. “I dreamed of you as a lost waif.” He stopped pacing and faced me. “When she permitted you to notice me, I witnessed the startled look in your sparkling eyes bloom as the Spring brings out the color in our fields.”
Self-conscious, and a bit worried of somebody influencing his mind, I blinked and backed away a step from him. However much I had to steer him clear of this poetic talk, what he first described in his dream had troubled me. “You called me a lost waif. What did you mean by that?” Strangely enough, he remained silent. It seemed his tongue had tied within his mouth. I provoked him, “Have you become a mute, Inze?”
“You wore…” As he paused, I followed his gaze. His look traveled down and lower from my own look I was giving him. “You wore more of your shining hair,” he tilted his head to direct my gaze upon his shoulder and continued, “...over your shoulders. A golden cloak of splendor.”
I cringed and thought about what he said and prompted him to explain by repeating his words. “You said I wore more of my hair?”
“Yes. More than that of the thin white shift you found to cover that fresh and pure body…” With his gaze still low, he shook his head and stated, “The sheer linen you wore revealed more to me than it hid.” He shook his head again. “The sight of you…” Then, again, he more violently shaken himself out of his current state. “I… Your flesh…” With the heel of his palm, he had struck himself upon and around one of his eyes, and yet, he couldn’t stop this. “The full… Seductive… Taunting me with your… With your breasts… Sylphet...”
A surge of emotions unlike any I had experienced before had struck me to the core of my being. I watched him struggle and felt an unusual warmth beneath my… My breasts. Like that of a housed bird, I felt the heat explode in a wild erratic pounding for release.
As my heart lurched towards him, I stepped closer. I wished to end the actions and words which agonized the both of us.
The haunted nights that drove us mad, I could end them. I had that power, but it would sacrifice what little hope I had left of one day inheriting the title of Duke.
Everything I learned to grow and become would be lost. I wouldn’t be me anymore...
“My Lord.” As he spoke, loud as thunder, it was also like lightning, his voice needled into my drumming ear. “Please stop delaying our return to the manor. We are both tired… My Lord?” When I came to a dizzying realization, I looked up towards him. “Are you well?”
That was a line I had wanted to ask of him. But.... As I looked and observed him, I saw nothing of the unstable mental state I witnessed him in.
“Sylphet, please, speak to me.” He had worn a concern look and adopted it in his voice. “If I must, I will carry you.”
I tightly pressed my lips into a grim line and bit my tongue. I had to or else I’d scream at him.
He wasn’t aware of what had happened. If it had… I wondered, ’Did I imagine him losing control?’
No… No… That couldn’t be it. I would rather have had him lose all sanity than to have been influenced by my mother in full wakefulness. I hadn’t lost to her. I did not fantasize him...
“Sylphet.” And he all but confirmed I had dreamed it by saying, “If this is about my touching you without your consent --”
I slapped him. The radiant numbness stretched out from my palm to the tips of my fingers. He, and I, were surprised by my action. I reasoned it had been because of my panic, of being mindful of my insecurity, and triggered into a violence when he brought up his touching me. The warmth of his hand...
Then, in a searing hot voice, I said, “We’re even.”
We hadn’t enough rest required to have a sane conversation. And I didn’t want to know what would have happened if either one of us snapped like I had seen. I hadn’t meant he’d hurt me or I him, but I still had no desire to push or be pushed by unseen influences.
“Shall we continue back to the manor?” As he displayed his sarcasm over my correcting him earlier, and instead seeming not to mind the harsh ’touch’ I administered across his face, at the same time he swiftly removed his own shirt and handed the linen garment over for me to wear. I took it and covered myself, with some reluctance, only because I didn’t want to accept what he’d offered.
It was like receiving a gift right after being chastised for being spoiled with what I already had.
There was a frustrated emotion in me that I wanted to purge, but I didn’t know how to deal with it. So I just nodded and walked quickly ahead of him. This was for me to be alone… Which didn’t last as he immediately strode to my side.
No matter how dangerous everyone, everything, everywhere had become, Inze would always be there, to protect, console, and watch over me. And, as time would have it, we’d be more…
