Aurelia had wept until her throat burned and her breath came in ragged gasps.
It was the kind of crying that emptied the body and left it trembling, the kind that drew shadows under the eyes.
Through it all, Vaelric, small and solemn, had remained by her side.
His little hands, soft and clumsy, patted her back in uneven rhythm, as though he believed he could calm away her grief by sheer persistence.
"Enough, Mother," he murmured in a voice far too gentle for his seven years. "It will be all right. You'll see."
At last she quieted. The sobs subsided into silence broken only by the faint patter of rain against the high windows of Caelmont.
She drew a long, steadying breath and whispered, "All right."
Her fingers trembled as she reached up and unclasped the veil that had hidden half her face for so many years.
The silken cloth slid away, exposing her marred flesh to the firelit chamber.
