"Please don’t do this," he said. "Kestrel, you don’t know. You don’t understand."
"I see things quite clearly." She began to walk to meet her father, in whose eyes she had, at last, done something to make him proud.
"You don’t," Arin said.
She pretended not to hear him. She watched the white sky dissolve into snow and shiver apart over the laden sea. She felt icy sparks on her skin. The snow fell on her, it fell on him, but Kestrel knew that no single flake could ever t o u c h them both.
She didn’t look back when he spoke again.
"You don’t, Kestrel, even though the god of lies loves you."