Here's a riddle for you

Harper

Harper knows he can't even begin to understand that sort of fate, but it twinges at his heart all the same. "Do you prefer sweets now you have access to them, or is it too overbearing?" He finds himself genuinely curious. He wants to know these things - know her. The little things that set her apart, that nobody would ever notice beyond a passing observation that she reaches for or skips over a particular plate in a restaurant. Equally, he knows how dangerous that desire is.

It's difficult to contend with while simultaneously hand-feeding her, but Harper is nothing if not defined by his self-control. He looks out over the orchard when she trails off, humming. "I thought I'd live here forever until Frey told Phoebe to move to Torchline and I went with her. I always wondered if Rae could have helped the soil, or if greenhouses could be built..." and while he'd never pursued leadership - never had in general, given he'd ended up a councilman by request each time - Harper had always hoped it might be a goal someday. But there'd been war, exploration, and an exodus of people running as far from the prison they'd known within the barrier. Eventually, it didn't matter. "I guess it fixed itself in the end. Kinda sad, but also admirable."

I cut my teeth on second-hand sentiments
you can't trust a thing I say