The Best of Times 3

That was the most unforgettable night of Crecyda's life. She remembered how deep her footprints sank into the snow, where the moon was when the argument happened, and how the frigid air relentlessly tried to steal the warmth from her face. She believed Renner remembered it too.

"Why did you do it?"

"I don't know, Crecyda. I really don't. Maybe it was the pressure, I..."

"Pressure! Talking to me about pressure! I spent ten days in that pitch-black hole, thinking about what had happened to you. I thought you'd do well, for yourself, for us..."

"I'm sorry." He stepped closer to her, extending his right hand.

"Don't touch me!" She recoiled as if tearing away a piece of the air between them. "Do you know what they said about me? A prostitute. Of course, that's how they see it. You came here all the time, spent money, rented a place, and ended up with me. Look, it's obvious, isn't it? Hearing them say it hurt me, but I wasn't angry, because I believed you loved me. Now look at what you've done."

Deep inside, she understood that Renner had cheated on the exam to ensure he could break free from his father's control and secure a future for the two of them. He wasn't confident enough to take first place on his own, or maybe he had been once, but the pressure had gradually worn him down, leading him to take a higher-risk path for guaranteed success. The result was that Renner lost his future, and Durado disowned him. Crecyda hadn't wanted to argue, hadn't wanted to bring it up. His failed deception had been proof of his love for her, but somehow, the words that made them both hurt more just spilled out.

"Now we have nothing," she said. "I have nothing, and neither do you. Where's the paperweight you took from me? Give it back. So much for your 'good luck charm'..."

The Jeweled Scabbard was gone, your dreams of the military academy were gone. But we still have each other—at least I hope so.

"Give it back and leave," she said. "I never want to see you again."

Don't leave. Stay with me. We can fix this. I can't, I won't say these things anymore. I can't. I can't.

"I'll give it back," Renner said, pulling out the unpainted paperweight from his pocket. "Stretch out your hand. How else can I return it?"

Crecyda reached out her hand but kept shrinking back. Renner held the paperweight in his right hand, as if to place it in her palm, but instead, he grabbed her wrist with his other hand and pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist.

"Maybe we have nothing," Renner said, "but we're free."

"I don't understand. I don't know what freedom is. I don't know what to do with it."

"With freedom, you can go wherever you want." He looked into her downcast eyes. "Let's leave together. Let's get out of here."

"Where would we go?"

"Somewhere no one knows us. It's not that hard—like moving house. We'll find a place we both like, and we'll stay."

"Can we really do that?"

"Why not? People in this world are always coming and going, searching for the right place. Now it's our turn."

"You say it like it's easy. After everything that's happened, you suddenly want me to leave with you."

"There's nothing here I care about, except for you."

"But I care about something."

He became a little nervous. "What do you care about?"

Crecyda pursed her lips and whispered almost inaudibly, "I want to bring my carving tools."

"So you're saying yes."

"I was just... speaking in anger earlier."

"I know."

Renner brushed his finger across the corner of her eye, and she realized she had been crying.

The next day, they set out.