Then, wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him—fierce, warm, and unyielding.
"It's all right," she murmured, her voice deep as mountain stone.
"If you believe what you did was right, then it was. The universe doesn't deal in good or evil, Jorghan—only in choices and their echoes. Don't let guilt chain you to the past. Even gods have fallen and risen again."
Sarhita pulled back enough to look at him directly, her eyes intense and unwavering. "Morality isn't some universal constant written in the stars. It's personal, contextual and complicated."
It was night; the seven moons weren't present in the sky—only three of them were. The remaining ones are in the darkness, unable to see.
-
That night was the sixth night, their last before the duel.
The clan held a formal gathering, ostensibly to honor Jorghan as Sarhita's chosen mate, but everyone knew it was more than that.
Jorghan was smiling; he was done with his vengeance. The next time he sees Uncle, it will be his death day.
