Tired as I was after spending all day scouring the clearing for evidence and examining Cyine's body, I wasn't granted any rest yet. Someone knocked on my door just as I finished washing up and changing my clothes. I regretted opening the door as soon as I saw Ianys standing on the other side, but I resisted slamming it closed.
"What do you want?" I asked, not caring how hostile I sounded.
After all this time, Ianys couldn't even look at me as he stood there, fidgeting with his tunic, eyes lowered to the ground.
Ianys was as gorgeous as he ever was. Brown, short cropped, messy hair, as if he had just risen from sleep, his muscles visible through the tight tunic. He was a tree elf, broad and more muscular than when we had been together, but as a smith that was to be expected; working the bellows was a pretty hefty workout in itself. I pushed down the memory of watching him work when we were together.
In all the turns since he'd left me, betrayed me, he had barely spoken two words to me. Instead, I had to watch from afar how he vowed himself to another, only to lose her to illness after their daughter, Atén, was born. I'd watched how hard he worked at being a good father, how he, finally, became a full-fledged smith. He'd never once approached me, but the hope lingering inside me could never be buried deep enough. How could I still want him? After eight turns, I should know better.
"I don't have time for this, Ianys. I am tired and I—"
"I need to talk to you."