"Not when I don't have to," Beau mutters, in response to the possibility of alternate universes. She's not drawn to delve into that sort of madness - forays into dunamancy are Caleb's realm, not hers - but she's not entirely ignorant of it, either.
Mostly, it gives her a headache.
She studies Soldat for a long moment, eyes narrowed, as though she's attempting to peel back his skin in search of any hint of deceit. He's not lying. She'd be willing to swear to it.
"Fuck," she says at last, and presses her eyes tightly shut, throttling down an entirely irrational knot of guilt that threatens to strangle her. Fjord - her Fjord - is fine. She has no way of saving his Fjord. It's not her responsibility to save an infinity of the Nein.
(She would, if they were in front of her. Even knowing full well they weren't hers, she would.)
"So, what, someone summoned him back from the grave?" A beat. "That mean you're dead, too?"
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Mostly, it gives her a headache.
She studies Soldat for a long moment, eyes narrowed, as though she's attempting to peel back his skin in search of any hint of deceit. He's not lying. She'd be willing to swear to it.
"Fuck," she says at last, and presses her eyes tightly shut, throttling down an entirely irrational knot of guilt that threatens to strangle her. Fjord - her Fjord - is fine. She has no way of saving his Fjord. It's not her responsibility to save an infinity of the Nein.
(She would, if they were in front of her. Even knowing full well they weren't hers, she would.)
"So, what, someone summoned him back from the grave?" A beat. "That mean you're dead, too?"