Caballa, standing in the shadows, wiped at her eyes, and then left as silently as she had entered.
Sabian, arms folded, rested in other shadows, watching, recalling moments when he and Michael laughed together, ate together. He missed his brother.
Lowen too watched, from a different vantage. From where she stood, Torrullin’s face and expressions were exposed to her. She watched the animation there, the release of tension, the genuine smiles and laughter. He was so bright, so very bright.
Tears coursed over cheeks.
There was the man she met in an amphitheatre on Valaris, with snow piling upon the rims. He was so bright then. How she loved him then.
How she loved him still.