Epilogue

Seamus sat silently on the top of the settlement’s wall, watching the sun rise in the east. He’d left Leinth asleep in the bed they now shared when he’d come out hours before, when everyone else except the sentries on watch were still asleep. Rory had given him a nod when he’d passed the fire, asked if he’d wanted a hot drink. Seamus had declined and sent him to bed.

The Hunt was leaving today, and they were taking his daughter with them.

I should feel guilty for that. Strange that I don’t. He wondered if the centuries he’d spent riding with the Hunt had somehow left him changed, damaged. He saw the world differently now, he was sure of that much.

The camp on the field beyond the walls was waking. He could see William moving in the gray light of dawn, waking the cookfire for a hot breakfast before they rode out.

“You’re wondering how many will stay,” Sif said quietly. Seamus startled, blinking as she climbed up to perch on the wall beside him. He hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Actually, no,” he said quietly. “I was trying to sort out how different I am now than I was when my cousin and Leinth knew me and thinking that I should be feeling something more than relief that the Hunt is taking Thesan with them.”

“She is what Albina made her,” Sif said. “You have no fault in that.”

“I know,” Seamus said. “That’s probably why I’m only relieved.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I never loved her, Sif.”

“Everyone knew that, Seamus,” Sif said quietly. “You tried to fake it, but we all knew. Leinth was the better match.”

He nodded, opening his eyes and staring out both sides of the wall, first the Hunt’s camp and then the settlement. “I can’t believe I’m free, Sif.”

“They made the right choice,” she said softly.

“I hope so,” Seamus whispered. “I truly hope so.”

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