"Varice, he's gone." She looked at Master Lindhall, sleepy-eyed.
"Who?" she asked, thoroughly confused.
"Arram. He didn't want me to tell you until after he left. He didn't want anyone to know," he added, seeing the lady open her mouth in disbelief.
"How could he leave without telling me?" she asked, a tear trickling down her face. "I would have wanted to go with him. I've always loved him, and nothing will change that."
Lindhall looked at his feet. "You know something," Varice guessed. Lindhall nodded. "Tell me," she demanded.
"He didn't think you'd want to go with him, and that would break his heart, Varice," the older man said after a moment of silence.
"How could he think that?" Varice asked, her face now streaked with tears. "I would have stayed with him forever, just to know he was there."
"He didn't think that, Varice." Seeing her expression, he nodded his head. "I'll leave you now. My duty was to bring you the news." He slowly backed out of the room.
She flung herself onto the bed, trying to convince herself that it was a dream. Arram never would have left her on her own like this, trying to find her place in the world alone. He couldn't have; he wasn't like that.
She trudged into her room's kitchen, not aware of anything anymore. Until she looked down at the counter.
A knife she had used the past night to cut a slice of cake for herself and Arram lay on the table in front of her. She picked it up, slowly, fingering the sharp point. She pushed it slightly into her finger. She winced, but it felt good to bleed, to feel physical pain to get her senses working again.
Her mind raced to Arram. Ozorne would find him, she was sure of it. He could never survive. Not without her.
There was one option for her to do. If she could help Ozorne, then maybe when he caught Arram, he would help her.
She would offer her services to Ozorne, her basic gift. She would organize his events, and do everything in her power to help him. And then she and Arram would be together again.
There was no way this plan could go wrong.
