Re: {Issy's passing!}
He laughed when she said he would not attend the gala if he misbehaved. He had said the same to Shayleiah that very morning. The sound was tragic somehow, but there was genuine mirth in it as well. If he heard her question, he did not give her any response. His mind was clearing, but it wasn’t quite there yet, because he whimpered as she withdrew her touch. It was a strange sound to hear from him, surely. She had been there while he hobbled on a broken leg and all he had done was grit his teeth.
“Yes.” It was a whisper, probably not the reassurance he meant it to be. He seemed worse now than when Isyllt was in the room, and he was not eager to share the reason for it. His hands spread flat against the floor, pressed hard there to keep them from wandering elsewhere. His eyes opened once more but he stared downward, those golden eyes haunted.
“I do not… How can I marry her?” He had expressed no doubts in the past months, but they came through now, intense and forlorn. "Do I tell her this? Is it wrong to keep it from her?"