High Priest Aubin looked at Jocelynn with eyes that held more sadness and worry than any man's gaze should.
This was the second time in just a few days that Jocelynn had come to him for help sending a loved one on their way, but this time, the young lady seemed even more hollow than she'd been when she brought him the body of Confessor Eleanor. There was still a flame burning somewhere in the depths of her cool, seafoam eyes, but now that she stood before him, that fire seemed almost lost in the mists and fog of her grief.
He didn't know if the noblewomen who had come to drink with her in honor of Lady Ashlynn would be able to rekindle some of that fading flame, but he hoped that they would. He took it as a good sign that she had accepted their offer. So long as she wasn't closing herself off from the world, there was still hope that the young lady wouldn't lose herself to the darkness of despair.
