Bedisa strode into the bedroom of the luxury suite Brembal had booked. Leaving him outside the doors, for now. A few breaths later she had her hand on a table, leaning on it for support. The anger…oh gods, the anger. The adrenalin was still there, the power…and it was leaving, now, which she was grateful for. She left the table, moved a few more paces to another door, and leaned over again.
Paused, and threw up. What had he done. What had *she* done. That power, that anger.
But…but. The point still stood. She could not change him. Not entirely, not now. She couldn’t fix this. And she could not…she could not leave him. Especially not now. She loved him, she wasn’t sure why, but she did. She loved, and she needed to watch him. She would show him consequences. She needed to find a balance, and…
She drank water, washed her face. Changed. Staggered to the bed and collapsed, and curled around a pillow, weeping. How could he. How *could* he. Her friends. His son. Her heart tore, and she slept alone. Tried to find her centre again, and feel some peace before sleep.
Sleep did not come easy.