Struggling for a moment, Ferus considered that answer. It felt ... wrong, and only a few months back, he would have argued it fiercely. Would have said that there was no such thing as correcting attachment and belonging and love, because each deserved its place in your heart.

Now, though the words grated painfully at him, he felt that he had to concede them. What if he'd made a mistake? He'd taken so many wrong steps after ... after Roan, and he'd lost so much he hadn't seen the point of going on, and was exactly what he'd been warned against when he'd been so young: that you can't make someone else a reason for living.

And now, though that was still the case with the Princess, he found himself reluctant to get more than superficially familiar with her.

Attachment once again felt like a risk. Like a mistake.

And it hurt him badly to feel that way, because he also remembered being happy. Truly happy. He wouldn't experience that again.

Swallowing, he said, "I'm not certain that you should have. But I don't feel certain of anything anymore."