Seeker and Beautiful sat together in the pasture, listening to Kind teach, his voice ringing clear over the morning calm. She leaned against Seeker, holding his hand tightly, hanging on every word Kind said.
Kind paused, looking out over the Pilgrims gathered. A nearby sheep bleated. “Remember, husbands: you should love your wives, the same way the Prince loved the flock. He laid down his life for it.”
Faint-Resolve sat next to him. Seeker stood and turned toward him. “How are things at the Slough?”
Faint-Resolve smiled—just enough to soften his usual gruffness. “Nothing’s the same since Companion left. Not much longer and my time here is up, too.”
Beautiful waved at Gracious, then paused to chat with Miss Fair-Glance. After a minute or two, she smiled and waved goodbye.
Faint-Resolve’s eyes trailed after Miss Fair-Glance as she walked away. A wave of fury burst from Beautiful. Seeker had never seen her like that before. Her blazing eyes nearly blinded him.
She leveled her gaze at Faint-Resolve. “Didn’t you hear a single word Kind said?” she shouted, trembling in rage.
Faint-Resolve looked back at her, confusion clouding his face.
“Don’t try to act innocent,” she snapped, pointing straight at him. “You know what you’re doing. Everyone does. But most of all, your wife knows.”
Faint-Resolve’s face paled. “It’s not like that,” he said quietly. “She reminds me of my wife. When she was young.”
Beautiful stood tall, her feet planted firmly, fists on her hips. She barely reached Faint-Resolve’s shoulders. But somehow, she towered over him. Seeker shifted uneasily. Gracious laughed nervously. Tirzah just nodded. Kind beamed at her, like a daughter he was proud of. Seeker felt sorry for Faint-Resolve. Beautiful was humiliating him.
“You humiliate your wife,” she continued. “She would die of shame. At least be a man about it—look at Fair-Glance straight on. Not out of the corner of your eyes. Like a thief stealing just a bite of bread.”
“I. I. I…” he stammered, “I love my wife.”
“Is that how the Prince loves his flock?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice cracked. Seeker believed him.
“Don’t apologize to me. Beg the King for forgiveness. Beg your wife.”
The storm had passed. A tender look crept into her eyes. “Yes. She can forgive.” She paused a heartbeat. “She will forgive. There is always forgiveness.”
All the color had drained from Faint-Resolve’s face. “Thank you, Miss Beautiful,” he said quietly. “I will remember your advice. I promise.”
He kept his promise. And from that day on, no one called him Faint-Resolve again.
