“Probably for the best,” Ashtadukht muttered. “Tirdad . . . I’m sorry. Everything I’ve done has been in the pursuit of justice. For Gushnasp. I should’ve gone about it differently. I know that now.”
Tirdad hesitated in placing his hand on her shoulder, then overcame whatever was behind that hesitation, and proceeded to rub it gingerly. “Hindsight will do that. What is done, is done.”
“Would you mind?” she asked, wearily gesturing at his scabbard. “It hurts, and I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a long time now.”
He moved closer, accompanied by the faint whine of a blade being drawn and a chorus of crunching eggshells. “Farewell, Ashta.”
His lips were warm on her forehead. His sword bit at her chest.
Table of Contents
A STAR-RECKONER’S LOT
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
A Star-Reckoner's Lot (A Star-Reckoner's Legacy Book 1) Page 35