Gwendolyn nodded to herself, looking down at the tips of her shoes that peeked out from the hem of her dress. She too worshiped the old gods. She too knew that her family had long since crossed the river into the afterlife, never to look back or return. Although she had had more time to absorb the loss, she had not yet been able to accept it. She spoke of them as if they were still present, as if they were merely looking down because she<i>had </i>to. The false hope she clung to was the only thing that initially kept her from walking straight off the edge of her balcony.<br/><br/>But she did not say this. She merely stood, her hand lingering atop her father's bier.<br/><br/>"Let's return," she said, her voice cracking as she turned to face the door. "We'll have to meet with Kyrion when the sun's set."