He had been sketching out how this confession might be received for hours, but he had not allowed himself to hope for this. He smiled, but not the sort of wide, unburdened smile that accompanied these sorts of declarations when they were made by the young and foolish. His smile was wry; an acknowledgement of their shared tragedy rather than a signal of joy. Aren't we pitiful? this smile said.

"I was going to give you a chance to leave," he said ruefully. He might still want to, in the end; there were things at stake, and Angelica knowing anything about him at all imposed a serious risk, however he felt about Emrys. Sentiment rarely won the day, in situations like this.

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