They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
That was it, then. As Loren had expected, feared, known, they would not open the door. All he could do was swallow back the lump of bile that threatened to rise in his throat. The queen’s ‘No’ settled into the room with a note of finality. A death sentence, maybe. Wessex had made the call, but the Launceleyn would not absolve himself of any responsibility from the consequences. Still, the summoner would reinforce her words, even if it was nearly impossible for him to do; standing idly by when there was even a chance that a real person might be on the other side of that door made his heart ache. Sure, he knew that it was the right decision. The smart decision. The one that minimized risk to all of them.
But gods help them all if they were wrong.
But gods help them all if they were wrong.
LOREN
