Page 107 of Veil of Dust

There’s no hesitation.

I keep going anyway. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to them. Not to the ghosts. You’ve already done more than anyone.”

She turns to face me fully now.

“This is my city.”

“I know.”

“My ghosts.”

I nod.

“My war.”

I exhale. “And you’ve already won.”

“No,” she says. “I survived. There’s a difference.”

Her hands come up to cross her arms. But they stop. Drop back to her sides. She breathes deeply, once.

“I don’t know how to leave it behind,” she says. “Even if I wanted to.”

I watch her.

Not the sharp-tongued bartender. Not the ghost-haunted queen of a burning empire.

Just her.

Tired. Raw. Honest.

I step closer. “Then I stay.”

She doesn’t push me back.

I reach out. My fingers skim the edge of her wrist.

“You don’t have to fight alone.”

“Don’t make promises like that,” she says. “You’ll break them.”

“I won’t.”

She looks at me now. Really looks.

I don’t look away.

“Say it again,” she says.

“I won’t break it.”

Her throat moves when she swallows.

“I don’t believe you,” she says.

“But you want to.”

She exhales.

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