"But when Isolde passed…" He took a long breath. "He didn't come. Sent a letter. A sealed one. And said… said he couldn't leave the capital because of a summit. A treaty negotiation with the Ruelan delegation."
He looked down at her, expression unreadable.
"You understand, little one? My wife died. The woman who gave her all for the Kingdom, the one who prayed for our victory with her own mouth and stood beside me when I nearly bled out in the snow."
Evelisse swallowed. "I... I understand why you'd feel abandoned."
"I would've crossed kingdoms barefoot for him," Altair said, voice like cold iron. "And he could not cross the sea for me."
Silence.
Heavy. Full of hurt not yet released.
"I never even opened that letter," he said finally. "Didn't want his regrets. Didn't want his excuses."
Evelisse looked down at her gloved hands, then up at him.
"I don't remember everything, Your Grace," she said slowly. "But… I know my father. And I know he doesn't treat friendship lightly."
