Rolan nodded. His bones felt as weak as blades of grass. It was all he could do to hold himself upright, his gaze averted. Cheeks hot with shame and self-loathing.
“Boy… Rolan. Listen closely to me now.” Luc pushed himself up onto his elbow, gazing intently at Rolan. When Rolan wouldn’t meet his eyes, he sighed.
“You do not have to prove yourself to me, or to anyone,” Lucsaid. “You don’t have to earn your place in this world. You deserve to be here, to be wanted and loved, simply because youexist. Look at me, boy. Look at me.”
Rolan did, then found he couldn’t look away. White light burned at the rims of Luc’s irises, the last remnants of the powerful Arcana that had healed him. Something strange was happening in Rolan’s chest, like he couldn’t breathe deep enough.
“You don’t have to prove yourself to me,” Luc said again.
“Even after my father…” A sob broke from Rolan’s lips. “He killed your family! You shouldhateme!”
Luc’s eyes glistened with tears, but still he did not look away. “Did you set the fire that claimed my family, Rolan?”
“No, but—”
“Did you put that knife in my chest?” He pressed a hand to the wound, now closed.
“I led them here! I didn’t want to, but I did it!” Rolan buried his face in his hands.
Gently, Luc pulled them away, refusing to let him hide, and spoke in a firm voice. “Rolan, I don’t care who your pa is. I don’t hold you responsible for his actions. If I ever do catch him…” His eyes drifted to the scar on Rolan’s jaw. “I would very much like to holdhimresponsible for his actions. Butyou? I chose you, boy. Once in the square, yes, for the wrong reasons. And for that I am so, so very sorry. I was foolish and weak and selfish.”
Luc paused to study Rolan, as if to be sure his words were being heard. Then he continued, softer. “But I chose you again, for reasons that are true, because I decided to love you like you were my own son, my own boy. And love doesn’t make demands. I love you as youare,becauseof who you are. I don’t ask that you change or be someone you’re not. You don’t have to proveanythingto me.” He cleared his throat. “But perhaps I need to prove myself to you.”
Rolan stared back at him, the breath he couldn’t draw suddenly flooding his lungs. He inhaled deep, deeper. Air swept through him, gathering up every cobweb of doubt and shadow of fear and then rushing out of him again, scouring him clean. It was like soaking up the noble Cryptic’s Arcana all over again, light suffusing his bones.
“You mean it?” he asked hoarsely.
“I mean it.”
“You sent me away.”
“Toprotectyou.”
Rolan thought of what Evaine had said, about how love sometimes meant letting someone go.
Suddenly her words made more sense.
“Would you have come back for me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Rolan wrung out one last word, his voice raw and ragged:“Promise?”
The Arcanist’s gaze was as solid as stone. “I promise. Stay, Rolan. Stay with me and be my apprentice. I swear to you my protection, my guidance, and my love, for as long as you will have it.” He gripped Rolan’s hand. “You asked me what I wished for, when I killed my first noble Cryptic. I wished for my son to return to me, Rolan. I wished to have a family again. And for years I thought my wish had been made in vain. But it wasn’t. Itwasn’t. I was wishing foryou, and I didn’t even know it until now.”
Rolan crumpled against Luc, who wrapped his brawny armsaround him and held him tight as he cried. It was like hugging a mountain. A solid, true mountain that would never move, never break, never abandon him.
He had never felt so seen.
So safe.
He didn’t ever want this feeling to end. He didn’t ever want to let go. It felt like a dream, a candle flame to be snuffed out. But as the minutes passed and Luc did not let go, that flame grew stronger. Brighter. More sure.
Until it blazed in Rolan like a bonfire.
After several moments he gathered himself and pulled back, hiccuping a little. Feeling shy. Feelingwanted.
It was the strangest, best moment of his life, and he did not know what to say.Thank youfelt miserably insufficient. He should saysomething, right? Something about how he felt. Something to match the majesty of Luc’s words.
