But it was, and somehow even the headstrong lady accepted it. So why was she here? Surely she should be in the Realms of the Dead. She looked around the room. She hadn't realised how much people had come to rely on her. Protection, love, an idol, a friend...
Biting her lip, she remembered that she hadn't been much of a friend to Jon. He needed Wyldon on his side, and she'd have fought for Tortall no matter what. Why couldn't she see that? She knew the answer. Because it hadn't been what she had wanted.
Suddenly, Jon turned away from the bed. She wanted to comfort him, to hold him till all the hurt vanished, but knew it was impossible. For all he was only a few feet from her, the greatest barrier in any realm lay between them. Death.
"I love you, Jon," she whispered.
Her once alive and sparkling purple eyes fell onto George as she turned away from the King. He was hugging the children, comforting them and drying their tears. She smiled, though sadly. That was the George she knew. Caring about others before himself.
She was thinking of George, and all the memories they'd shared together, when Jon attracted her attention. He had turned to Thayet. Watching the two embrace, Alanna wanted to cry.Why had she let him go? When did the anger come between them, and why did he still feel the pain of rejection? She was furious now, with no idea why. You never forgave me! She tugged a hand through her hair – or, at least, she thought she did. He didn't need to forgive her. They hadn't been right for each other.
Jon let go of Thayet, and his gaze turned to where Alanna was standing. Almost mechanically, he stood. "I forgive you," he whispered. "And I love you."