IC Contact Post [Hadriel]

[mismanagement]

This is Maketh Tua. State your business.

Comments

[hotspurred]

[Henry listens to Maketh, then gives a small, thoughtful nod.]

Ah... that is good. [More than good — a modicum of peace for his troubled sister.] May God rest their souls.

[mismanagement]

And Iamarl's.

[Even if it was only for a little while, Maketh got to meet her. She lets out a slow breath.]

I think we will be all right, brother. Not today. But in time.

[hotspurred]

[Henry tips his head back, silent for a moment. Maybe. Maybe.

If nothing else, he is weary to the bone of dishonouring Iamarl's memory. He is done.

And what is a Percy without hope? Esperance.]

So we shall be, sister.