Cyréne gulped in air and willed her frantic heart to slow so that she could turn around. The brief high she'd been riding dissolved. Guilt raced through her and she found herself crashing headlong into reality as the seconds ticked by. Finally she turned to face the Dragonborn.

Kalv's eyes raked over Cyréne as she turned to face him. Her wavy hair was curing at her sweaty hairline and her face was streaked with dirt. The tunic tied at her waist was also sweaty and dirt-streaked and had become almost see-through from the moisture. He took in her fitted leather pants and scuffed boots with a clenched jaw. And was that . . . blood on her lip?

Cyréne tried not to buckle under the weight of his disapproval.

His eyes made their way back up to her face – she looked guilty.

"What," he said, effectively ignoring Shaye, "have you done?"

"I . . ."

"I'll see you later," Shaye said, before slipping away.

Kalv looked at Cyréne expectantly. She raised her chin and said nothing.

He crossed his arms. She crossed hers.

Kalv stepped toward her until they were almost touching and glowered down at her. "I asked you a question."

"I've been sparring with one of my shield-siblings."

"Which one?" he asked, jaw clenched.

"Ria," Cyrene lied.

He relaxed slightly. "Did you win?"

"Of course, no one bests a Sweetroll." She grinned up at him hopefully.

He didn't smile.

"Please stop looking at me like that," she whispered.

"Like what?"

"Your disapproval is obvious. I'm sorry that I'm dirty, and that my clothes aren't right . . . I wasn't expecting you back and—"

Kalv's green eyes narrowed dangerously and her words caught in her throat. He adjusted the heavy pack on his back and put a hand on the small of her back.

"It's not that," he said quietly, "it's just . . ." I think you're lying to me. "It's nothing"

Cyréne swallowed. She felt pressure at the small of her back and moved forward to close the distance between them. She let out a small gasp and her eyes widened. She fluttered her lashes at him, and his brow furrowed into a silent apology.

Cyréne's eyes softened and her words came out like honey. "Am I not yours, why aren't you glad to see me?"

"You," he said hoarsely, "are beauty and sweetness and light. I shouldn't question you, and I am glad to see you. Very glad."

The concern on her face caused him to trial off. Cyréne felt a little fragment of her heart break away.

"Is that what you want me to be, Kalv?" Cyréne said softly, "those things . . . only?"

He set his pack down and cupped her face in both hands. "No, it's not what I want. I know that you're real, and flawed and human. I'm just tired—"

She tugged him down to her. This man carrying such a heavy burden, so good and kind and handsome, and who yet wants her love and approval and forgiveness . . . after what she'd just done . . . how could she live with herself if she didn't do the right thing, and give him the support she'd promised? The tug-of-war going on in her heart threatened to rip it in half. She realized she'd been silent too long and stared up at him for a moment. DO IT! Give him what he needs. Make your choice and commit to it. "Don't you believe that I want you?" she said softly.

"Yes, but – "

She cut him off. "I promise you, I will be whatever you need me to be, until this journey is complete," she promised, "After that, I can only be me."

"Whoever the hell that is," Vilkas muttered to himself.

"You know," Shaye said from somewhere above him, "It's really impolite to eavesdrop."

Vilkas jumped slightly and looked up. He was standing in the shadow of the drawbridge and Shaye was looking down at him from the top.

"Then what are you doing?" he said in irritation.

She grinned, "Eavesdropping – but she'll tell me this later, so I'm just saving time. What's your excuse?"

"Good day," he growled and turned to walk away.

Shaye hit the ground in front of him gracefully and fell into step beside him. "What's the deal between you two anyway?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh sure, sure," she said easily. "It's probably a good thing anyway. Daedra only know what depraved things you'd need her to be."

Vilkas rounded on her with a snarl, but she was gone. He started walking again, only to hear Shaye's voice echo to him from the shadows.

"He's not good for her, you know," she said softly. "She is not safe with him."

"How do you know?" Vilkas said, looking around.

Her voice was almost too soft to hear. "I was married to a man like him once. Only one of us made it out alive."