Author's Note: Sorry guys! I didn't want to stick this at the top but apparently, Wattpad doesn't support strikethrough?! So for this chapter, let's pretend that whenever something is underlined, it's Sedgewick crossing it out, okay? Thanks!

Feyla's hands shook to the time of her pounding heart. She swallowed hard and stared harder at the letter as if it was an illusion spell that would fade at any moment. The words of the Captain of the Guard swirled around her head.

If he attempts to contact you, report it immediately or face the consequences...

Feyla had always considered herself a model citizen. She followed the law, paid her taxes, and had a decent amount of faith in her country's legal system. If she hadn't known that Sedgewick was innocent and Tyrinn was pulling all the strings, she probably would have handed the letter over and kept her record as a perfect citizen unbroken.

Unfortunately for the Captain of the Guard's investigation, she did know.

Feyla broke the seal, breaking her spotless record along with it. Her hand fumbled to check that her door was locked while her eyes stuck harder than the wax seal to the paper. She slowly moved to her chair, something in her subconscious telling her she should probably be sitting down. Breathing deeply, Feyla finally unfolded the paper. It was written in Sedgewick's firm, scrolling script that she would have recognized from an arrow's shot away. The paper was riddled with blotches as if he hadn't known how he wanted to phrase it and didn't have time to start over. The first line, which should have just held the open address was almost completely filled by thick, dark blotches. Feyla squinted and managed to make out a "Miss Everbloom", the standard "Dear Feyla", and several other indistinguishable greetings. Finally, in a lighter, less certain hand than she was used to seeing from Sedgewick, he'd written out, "Dearest Feyla".

Feyla's arms stiffened while her gaze became suddenly preoccupied with her rug. Did she really want to read this? Would it just be more of what he'd said on the boat? Why did he risk writing her before leaving? Was he giving her some sort of warning? Part of her wanted to hold the letter over a candle and forget she'd ever seen it. But if she did, Feyla would lose the only thing that might give her some answers. She straightened her shoulders and braced herself as if she was facing her execution. Then she began to read.

Dearest Feyla,

I've made many mistakes—

There are many things in my life that I regret—

I'm sorry. It isn't enough and it never will be but given the circumstances, it's all that I can offer. I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. I'm sorry for not appreciating everything you did for me. I'm sorry for letting you tie yourself into knots in an attempt to get me to admit something I'd long ago sworn to never feel again. I'm sorry I hurt you. Were things different, I would do everything in my power to make it up to you. But given that I have no power and am on the run from a (very effective, if I may say so myself) government organization, this letter is all I can offer you.

You were wrong, you know, when you said my magic was all I cared about. I also care about my cat. And Eleyna. And I wasn't lying when I said that I was fond of you. I am. But that wasn't the whole truth and you know me well enough to realize that.

I am... not an eloquent person. I can't serenade. I can't write verses. Gates, I can't even write this particularly well. I'm a decent dancer but I haven't done it in years so I don't even know any of the new steps that are now popular. To be truthful, whenever a sappy bit came up in those theatre shows we went to, my eyes would glaze over and I'd lose focus. Partly because you always paid attention during those parts and I used that to sneak glances at you because you always looked particularly lovely whenever we went—

I wish that I was eloquent. You deserve to be piled with poems and songs like Beryn used to send you some people know how to do. But I don't. So, I will say in the bluntest, simplest, and sincerest of terms that I love you, Feyla Everbloom. You were right about that all along, dearest. And none of my years of lying and denial ever changed that. You're warm and beautiful and have a strength of character that I will forever marvel at. I was just too much of a coward to admit what we both already knew was true.

Since I'm a terrible person— Considering that I'm an unpleasant man— I question your judgment regarding me—

I haven't the foggiest notion of what I did that made you love me. If I knew, it would be avoided like a curse with the hope that you would move on to someone worthier of your affections. I am short, plain, difficult to deal with, and older than you. In summary, the only things I had to offer you were my powers and position and now I truly have nothing. But love you I do and I wish you all the best in the world. If you do not forgive me, that is understandable. My only request is that you would please take care of Telemachus for me. He's a good cat.

Provided that you keep your head down and don't do anything reckless, your involvement in my "betrayal" should blow over. Tyrinn has little to link you to it. DO NOT engage him in any fashion. He's unaware of how much you know so don't provoke him. The man is dangerous and will have no qualms about tying up any loose ends. Please, Feyla my dear, you're at enough risk as it is. Knowing you're safe is one of my few solaces. I couldn't bear your loss.

It is not safe for me here, so I will be leaving and I do not expect to see you again on this side of the grave. Goodbye, Feyla Everbloom. You mean more to me than I am capable of expressing. A more selfless person would ask you to forget me. But I am not quite that unselfish so please...don't forget me. Be happy. Be very happy but please don't forget me. Because try as I did, nothing ever made me forget you.

Yours,

Always yours,

Sedgewick

Feyla stared at the letter for a long time. Her head buzzed as she tried to process all that he had said. The silence of the room cocooned around her, wrapping her to the chair as a balm spread over the wounds in her heart.

Until she broke into sobs and new ones ripped open to take their place.

Feyla curled her legs to her chest and pulled the letter closer as she tried to reread the words through the tears blurring her vision. "That's what I wanted to hear, you idiot," she sobbed out to the letter. "I didn't care about all those other things."

Sedgewick had finally admitted to the very thing she had begun to doubt. And true to his word, it wouldn't be upheld as a love letter for the ages. But that didn't stop it from being bluntly sincere and it didn't stop it from possessing a vulnerability that Feyla had scarcely thought him capable of. If he were beside her right now, she would have snatched him into a hug and reassured him that she couldn't care less about his missing magic or any of the other "disadvantages" he had listed. But he wasn't beside her. In fact, Feyla hadn't the vaguest idea of where he was.

Choices stretched out before her. Feyla wiped her eyes, careful to avoid dampening the letter. She could still turn the letter over to the authorities but it would be of little use to them in finding or exonerating Sedgewick. And considering his words about her knowing too much, it might even raise the chances of her truly getting arrested. She could do what Sedgewick asked and keep her head down long enough to move on with her life. Get another job, meet some safe, ordinary man that wouldn't be too bothered by her keeping one little old letter...

The hair on her neck raised as every nerve in her body hardened at the thought of moving on and acting as if nothing had changed and none of this had mattered. No, she didn't want that.

"Don't do anything reckless," he had written.

Feyla traced the words on the paper, a cunning smile spreading across her tear-stained cheeks. "You didn't really expect me to listen to that, did you, Sedgewick?"