I watch him pore through all of those books and I find it remarkable. Even when I told my folks back in Skyrim that I was finished with combat training for good, I never dedicated more than two or three hours a day, with the noticeable exception of Sundas, to my studies.

I can only imagine how desperate Martin is as he is as he attempts to narrow his search for answers and how badly he wants to give up, close the musty books and go take a rest for his world weary eyes. I know I felt that impulse after dragging the great welkynd stone back, but the difference between him and I is that he a stronger person than I am...After the welkynd stone, I gave in. I ended up crashing right in the barracks and dozing off soon afterward for what seemed like days on end, like a candle snuffed out, much to Jauffre's annoyance and Martin's…whatever he was feeling.

I can never guess what he is thinking about—Martin, I mean. Those years following Akatosh seem to have made him stone-faced. He's not like the tomes he reads—you can't just turn the page and expect an answer or a reaction from him. It's not like he's completely stoic at all times, but…

I wonder if he even knows what is going on in my mind, if he is aware of it, if he has noticed it. I wonder if he realizes that I am not just bound by duty to carry out this mission, but by my heart as well. I wonder if he even notices that I am here half of the time, that it's not just any Blade doing this work. I wonder if he knows that I care about him and that…I wish I could just get him to open up his thoughts and let me interpret their rhyme and reason, perhaps bring a whole new meaning to it all.

But what does it matter now?

Exhausted, I drop Sanguine's Rose on the table. He pauses, shoving his book aside and relieved to rest his eyes from the worn away print as he meticulously scrutinizes the cursed artifact, his blank blue eyes narrowing. He stares endlessly, those eyes showing calm as he nods in approval quietly.

"Sanguine's Rose…I never thought to lay eyes on it again it again…" he trails off, looking at me, but not quite seeing me.

…I am a fool.

He'll never see me…Even if he actually felt that way about me, he is a priest turned emperor and he has no time to care about a useless Nord like me. After his years following Sanguine's twisted ways, I doubt he feels as much need to chase women anyway.

I am just another Blade after all.

I am bound by duty. There is nothing going on with me. I've never gazed at him, admiring how much he's grown within the last month. I've never talked to him and gotten the feeling that he actually trusts me. I've never felt the compulsion to let his head rest on my shoulder as he catches up on sleep. I've never dozed off with his assurances ringing inside my mind. Even now, he's staring at the wall. He's not addressing me. I'll never be alone with him, try to comprehend him or even open the first page to what could have been.

Defeated, I turn away, sure that I won't hear another word from him.

"Katarina, my friend!" he exclaims. My ears perk up as I quickly pivot around, my chainmail boots scratching up the floor softly as I wonder what is going on, what emergency happened and where I am needed. "I…"

We both pause. My breath hitches in my throat as I barely am capable enough to spit out the shortest reply ever.

"Yes, sire?"

The expression on his face darkens, the corners of his mouth dropping down as he shakes his head, his aging brunette locks getting in his eyes.

"It's nothing."

"…Are you sure, sire—"

"For Akatosh's sake, go get some rest!" he testily orders, his brows knitting as he cuts me off sharply. His back hunches over and he buries his head back into his books, his eyes shooting venomous knives at the pages. I have no choice but to leave, but I can't help but wonder if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.