No matter how long he’s been here, he’s brutalized far more bodies than he has held lovingly. Sometimes he thinks he could love her every day for the rest of their lives and it still wouldn’t put a dent in how many times he’s stuck a sword in another’s chest.

But he hopes she’s right. He hopes he’s a good person, and he hopes he can find himself with her.

His brow knits once more.

“Oh, Jill. No, you didn’t cross any lines. Certainly none I wasn’t goading you to come over with me.”