Page 308 of Salt Between the Wolves

The room seemed quieter after that.

"And?"

"Vargan Frostvein yielded."

For several seconds Eira simply stared at her. It was not disbelief that held her silent so much as the fact that she had never imagined hearing those words.

"He is alive?"

"Yes."

Only then did she release the breath she had been holding.

Varda watched her carefully.

"The sentence was exile."

Eira closed her eyes.

The emotions that followed refused to separate themselves into anything simple. Relief existed alongside grief, anger beside pity. Her father was alive, yet he was gone. He had done this to himself, and he had done it believing love gave him the right to decide her future.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she asked,

"Where is Soren?"

Something unreadable crossed Varda's expression.

"Outside."

The answer felt inevitable. He was not beside the bed claiming a place she had not given him, nor was he far enough away to ignore what happened next. He had chosen the familiar middle ground between concern and restraint, remaining close enough to be summoned and distant enough to leave the choice entirely to her.

Eira watched the fire for a long moment.

"Send him in."

Varda inclined her head and rose from her chair.

A moment later the door closed behind her, leaving Eira alone with the firelight and the conversation waiting on the other side of the door.

For several moments nothing happened while Eira watched the fire, until she heard the latch move and the door opened to reveal Soren entering.

He looked tired, not exhausted in the way of sleepless nights or long journeys, but worn somewhere deeper, with healing cuts across his face faded into thin lines while new bruises still darkened the skin along his jaw and throat, remnants of a fight neither of them needed described.

He closed the door behind him and remained where he was, and neither of them spoke.

For the first time since she had known him, he seemed uncertain whether he was welcome, and the realization startled her more than his injuries.

His gaze moved over her once, assessing and confirming she was awake, conscious, and sitting upright, and only then did some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You look terrible," Eira said, and one corner of his mouth moved slightly.

"You've been unconscious for five days."

"Then I assume I win."

The faint trace of amusement vanished almost immediately as silence settled again, until Soren broke it.

"Frostvein remains stable," he said, speaking straight to the point as always.