Elian met us at the palace gates with considerably more restraint than his usual enthusiastic greeting, arms crossed in a posture I recognized, uncomfortably, as an imitation of Darius's own diplomatic composure during difficult council sessions.
"You were gone longer than you said," he announced, before either of us had fully dismounted. "Three months isn't 'a few weeks.' I counted."
"You're right," I said, kneeling before him despite his obvious determination to maintain some semblance of dignified distance. "We stayed longer than we originally planned. I'm sorry for that, Elian. Truly."
His composure cracked slightly, the careful distance giving way to something more genuinely hurt. "Aldric said you were building something important. Helping people. But I kept thinking—what if you decided helping them mattered more than coming home to me?"
