ETAN
Etan had tried to leave. When the Queen dropped her bomb, then swept out, leaving him there utterly alone and staring at the door, he tried to go. But he couldn't move. His eyes dragged across the room, along the shelves of books, the single window, the plush chairs… this alien room in the wing of his enemy. How had he ended up here? He had to leave, he reminded himself. He couldn't face Ayleth yet, he wasn't strong enough. And she might show up at any minute. Etan needed time and energy to do what needed to be done to save her. For her own good!
But he couldn't force himself to move. He was frozen in place, his mind humming—screaming—with images of desperately, frantically stealing Ayleth, running away together, only to feel her pull away from him, her beautiful face going pale, then her elegant form crumpling to the dirt.
