He listened to the former Heart as she took responsibility for her companion’s loss and Hadama tilted his head subtly in acknowledgment of her words, though he remained silent. He could offer no comfort to dull the pain of such a grief, and he would not speak empty platitudes. Whatever else lay between them she deserved better than that from him.
The sea offered its own solace in the quiet rush of its waves upon the sand and the lonely cry of distant gulls. He allowed the silence between them to fill with the sounds of Torchline, a place where it was never truly still. Water and wind and fire and sand were in a constant state of shifting. Changing. Shaping each other in a slow and ancient pattern.
Nothing stayed the same for long in such a place. Not even Kings. Or perhaps especially not Kings. Or, for that matter, Hearts.
”Mmh. The crown sat heavily on your brow before,” he rumbled at last, turning his head to look upon the young woman near to his side. ”Are you strong enough now to keep it, even in the face of opposition?” In the face of another invasion, he did not say. Or some other new challenge that would undoubtedly arise in the future.
The sea offered its own solace in the quiet rush of its waves upon the sand and the lonely cry of distant gulls. He allowed the silence between them to fill with the sounds of Torchline, a place where it was never truly still. Water and wind and fire and sand were in a constant state of shifting. Changing. Shaping each other in a slow and ancient pattern.
Nothing stayed the same for long in such a place. Not even Kings. Or perhaps especially not Kings. Or, for that matter, Hearts.
”Mmh. The crown sat heavily on your brow before,” he rumbled at last, turning his head to look upon the young woman near to his side. ”Are you strong enough now to keep it, even in the face of opposition?” In the face of another invasion, he did not say. Or some other new challenge that would undoubtedly arise in the future.
