Not much, not enough... but Lucretia knows that they were in love. That Magnus and her married. That she died in the raze of Raven's Roost. She isn't sure how to begin addressing that, and he doesn't bring it up, so she remains silent.)
I'm sorry, Magnus. (She repeats, and reaches out to lay her hand lightly over the top of his wrist.) I just– wanted to be able to fix everything for you.
(There's a very tiny, unbidden part of her that knows she had imagined a repeat of the triumph, too. Like the aftermath of cycle sixty five, when they had all marvelled over how capable she was, how she had saved all of them, all by herself. When they had told her that they were so proud of her.
Not so much this time, huh.)
Deal, (she says, and her voice comes out a little tight and funny. She clears her throat, repeats herself.) It's a deal.
no subject
Not much, not enough... but Lucretia knows that they were in love. That Magnus and her married. That she died in the raze of Raven's Roost. She isn't sure how to begin addressing that, and he doesn't bring it up, so she remains silent.)
I'm sorry, Magnus. (She repeats, and reaches out to lay her hand lightly over the top of his wrist.) I just– wanted to be able to fix everything for you.
(There's a very tiny, unbidden part of her that knows she had imagined a repeat of the triumph, too. Like the aftermath of cycle sixty five, when they had all marvelled over how capable she was, how she had saved all of them, all by herself. When they had told her that they were so proud of her.
Not so much this time, huh.)
Deal, (she says, and her voice comes out a little tight and funny. She clears her throat, repeats herself.) It's a deal.