The crowned prince walked beside his father for a time, neither saying anything. Finally, the king stopped. “I miss her, too. No father should ever outlive his child.”
“She’s not dead. Or if she is, she isn’t buried there.”
The king’s jaw twitched.
“I have fought in a hundred battles. Watched men die a thousand deaths. I am not unfamiliar with Mor’s handiwork. For the longest time, I thought…”
“You thought what?” his father gently prodded.
“That she had not gone to the gods of the light, but I could never bring myself to truly believe it.”
“I think she is hurt. And in pain. And out there all alone.” He nodded toward the dark shadow of the Dragonscale mountains.