She was right in knowing he understood. Larkspur understood what it was to be chosen, even if he was not the first, not touched by Tak. He heard the earth-king’s voice, he spoke in the language of the dead, but he was not given the gifts that Misery had received. It was her that had been chosen, her alone that would lead the future in the image he believed it needed to follow.
The ultimatum was accepted with the same blind devotion he had always shown her. He nodded and turned his face to her, orange eyes gleaming. He smiled widely, a ferocity, a dumb sort of danger in his face, and spoke only once more. “My life for you,” he said quietly, as if to remind her of the things he had promised her, things that she knew he believed ultimately.
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