Seirion remained before the altar, his hands resting on his knees. From there, in the distance, he could hear Erian's sobs.
Each of Erian's cries struck him like a blow. No matter how hard he tried to ignore them, every ragged breath reached his chest and reminded him of what he had done. He wanted to rise. He wanted to run to Erian, to hold him, to tell him that none of what he had said had been real but he forced himself to stay where he was.
Seirion clenched his fists. If Maloren suspected that Seirion's feelings for Erian were genuine, he would destroy the human in an instant.
Minutes passed. The echo of Erian's weeping grew fainter, yet it did not fade entirely. Seirion felt he could not endure much longer. He needed to act. If he could not hold Erian, if he could not tell him the truth, then he had to protect him in the only way left to him.
He drew a deep breath and stood.
"Korveth."
