Martin arrived at Indenuel’s dungeon cell every day for the next week, answered questions, led discussions, gave suggestions. Every day the mark looked lighter. As long as they could get it far more light than dark. The devil’s power would loosen, and the poor boy might get some sleep. Martin wasn’t sure if it was the nightmares or the stress, but the boy was looking horrible. Maybe it was both.

The day’s lesson came to a close, and Dalius excused himself to eat some dinner. Inessa would arrive soon, and they would share dinner together, and he wanted to give them that moment alone. Well, partially alone with Tolomon there.

“Do you have any more questions for me?” Martin asked.

Indenuel stared at the ceiling, looking exhausted as Tolomon helped get his shirt back on. “Have you told Sara yet? About what you did?” Indenuel asked.

Martin placed his hands in the sleeves of his robes. He of course knew exactly what Indenuel was talking about. “No. I have not.”

Indenuel frowned, staring at him. “Do you ever plan on telling her?”

Tolomon finished tying Indenuel’s shirt on before starting to wrap the chains around him. “Is this what is making it so difficult for you to forgive me?” Martin asked in a moment of clarity.

Indenuel sighed, looking away. “I think so. I don’t know if I can forgive something like this while you are hiding it from Sara. Yes, you’re hiding it from everyone, but… but Sara doesn’t deserve to remain in the dark. This feels rotten.”

Martin nodded, understanding what he meant, and refusing to think about Inessa. “I see now that it would be wrong of you to ask me for forgiveness when… when I know Sara would never forgive me.”

Indenuel frowned. “She should still know, though, right?”

“Eventually, yes. And while it remains a secret, the High Elders could certainly still use it as leverage to get me to do what they want,” Martin said, glancing at the door Dalius recently left.

“And yet you still won’t tell Sara?” Indenuel asked.

“I can’t. It is a secret I swore to when this project was created. And I cannot tell her without breaking my oath,” Martin said.

Indenuel stared at him. “Why did you agree to it in the first place?”

“The very same reason you marked yourself. Desperation,” Martin said. Indenuel glanced at the mark now covered by his shirt. “We both did wrong. We both need to repent and do better.”

“Often repenting is admitting your wrongs. I’m already unimpressed with the High Elders’ desires to keep things secret, but keeping secrets from your wife? Are you seriously planning on never telling her?”

Martin said nothing. He couldn’t keep Indenuel’s gaze long. “I… do not have the strength to.” Indenuel narrowed his eyes. “Another disgrace of my character that I am rectifying. One day I will. She is my moral compass. She keeps me grounded. She is not afraid to tell me when I’ve done wrong, and I am not ready to admit one of my blackest sins. I am terrified of losing her.”

Indenuel nodded, his face softening just a little. “I can understand that.”

Martin nodded. “Thank you. I shall see you tomorrow.”

Tolomon put the mask back on. Martin walked up the stairs, troubled. Indenuel was right. When it came down to it, the only person he could control was himself. He couldn’t force Indenuel to forgive him, any more than he, as a healer, could force the winds to change direction. Eventually Sara needed to know, and maybe now was better than later.

Martin was thinking about it all the way home, greeting Derio as usual before he headed toward the kitchens, seeing her there, sprinkling some seasonings onto the soup.

“Martin, hello. Dinner should be finished shortly,” Sara said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it will be magnificent,” he said looking into her eyes. “I just got back from seeing Indenuel.”

“Oh, how is the poor dear? Inessa said he’s withering away with stress,” Sara said.

“I’m certain he will surprise us all,” Martin said.

“You have been such a good support to him these past few weeks. He has needed that,” Sara said.

“Sara,” he started to say. The opportunity to confess was right there. But a sin twenty-five years in the making was difficult to unearth. “How is everyone?” Martin asked instead.

Sara glanced around before tucking some hair behind her ear. “Are Nathaniel and Rosa going through something?”

Martin hesitated. “Have they said anything?”

“No. But they can’t keep something like this hidden forever. Especially living under the same roof as their family.”

“Nathaniel has said something to me, but he said it in confidence. I was not sure if they had worked it out yet.”

“They haven’t,” Sara said. “It’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it?”

Martin nodded, glancing again around. “Since Inessa’s party.”

Sara sighed. “I thought so. Rosa, the poor dear, is struggling.” Sara placed her hands on the back of her head, another tired sigh escaping her. “How long do we let them struggle without demanding we help?”

Martin’s smile was tiny, but he gave her a hug, trying to be her support. With his children going through such a rough time in their marriage, he couldn’t bring himself to admit his wrongs to her now. As selfish as it sounded, he needed to keep it quiet. He couldn’t cause this stress on Sara on top of what Nathaniel and Rosa were going through.

***

Indenuel was silent as Dalius returned. Indenuel closed his eyes, bracing himself for the prodding and pulling. Tolomon unlocked Indenuel’s mask. Not that Dalius talked to him, ever, but Tolomon was always finding excuses to make sure Indenuel didn’t need to be chained nearly as much. As Dalius was the most powerful speaker of the dead, Indenuel didn’t need to wear his mask around him.

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Indenuel closed his eyes, his brows furrowing as Dalius began to pull. He tried to keep his mind on other things, but he was so exhausted. The nightmares haunted him, making it feel as though he was hardly getting any sleep at all. The demons reminded him of his devilish actions, and waking was a constant reminder of what he needed to prepare for. It made him want to shut down. The Empress would arrive in another three days, and the mark was still as dark red as ever.

There was a way to make it lighter, though. It happened with Inessa, it could happen with Martin. But did he want it to happen with Martin? The man was a liar and a hypocrite.

So am I.

Indenuel opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. Both he and Martin had done things they regretted, but it seemed like Indenuel was the only one trying to right his wrong. Martin wasn’t going to tell Sara, and he probably never would. How could Indenuel forgive such a man?

Must you wait until a person is doing what you want to forgive them? A tiny voice asked him. Martin didn’t need that assurance before he forgave you.

Indenuel stared at the ceiling again. He had listened to Martin’s sermons on forgiveness and mercy. Never once did he mention waiting for the other person to change before you forgive. You simply did. Not because Martin needed it, but because Indenuel did. The hate he felt toward Martin was exhausting. Martin may have lied to his wife. He may have slept with hundreds, maybe even a thousand women. He was a hypocritical High Elder, and would always remain such, but he remembered what he said when he stood trial for Martin’s attempted murder. Yes, he tried to kill Martin, but he was angry. He regretted it. Martin forgave him of it. And if Indenuel really sat down and thought about it, he felt remorse. If Indenuel had succeeded in killing Martin, he would have regretted it for the rest of his life.

He still believed Martin would go straight to Hell. Sleeping with desperate women, turning the other way as some of them were murdered, leaving them to live their destitute lives. All these were sins of the blackest sort, but if Indenuel forgave, he didn’t have to be angry anymore. And maybe Martin would somehow try to make it better. After all, he couldn’t deny he was trying to right his wrongs. Indenuel would never forget the surprise as Martin handed Inessa over. Forgave them of everything. Let them have a life neither one of them thought was possible. To Indenuel’s complete surprise, he found that maybe he could let go of the anger he felt toward Martin. He had other things he needed to worry about.

Warmth filled his entire being. He tried sitting up, but it was impossible with his chains still around his arms. Dalius gasped.

“Dear God,” Dalius said, standing up, staring at Indenuel’s chest. “What was that?” Indenuel looked down to see the mark a pink color. Not dark red, not even rose colored. It was pink. Dalius tried to say something, but his jaw dropped open. He hadn’t fished the corruption out, it simply disappeared.

Tolomon approached Indenuel, a proud smile on his face. Indenuel looked away as Dalius tried to pull at the corruption again. “Did you forgive Martin?” Indenuel hesitated before nodding. Dalius smiled. “Excellent. I shall alert the others at once. This is huge.”

Dalius left the cell, running up the stairs. Tolomon walked over, straightening Indenuel’s shirt before starting to tie it up again.

“I thought it would get rid of it all,” Indenuel admitted, looking at the pink marks on his chest. “There’s some that still remain.”

“Forgiving Cristoval and Dalius might help,” Tolomon said, tying his shirt back into place. “And probably Fadrique as well.”

Indenuel closed his eyes, a wave of exhaustion hitting him just thinking about it as he placed his head back on the table. “I’ll have to think about that.”

Tolomon smiled. “Take your time.”

Indenuel kept his eyes closed, shaking his head. “There isn’t time.”

“Do this for you, not the Empress,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel sighed, looking at Tolomon as he started wrapping the chains around him. “Pretty sure I have to beg forgiveness from the Empress too. I hurt her and her people. That’s probably how the rest of it will come off.”

Tolomon frowned but nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know how you’d pull that one off.”

“I doubt I can. Not while keeping my mark a secret. I cannot sincerely ask for her forgiveness without also mentioning how I was able to kill so many of her soldiers.”

“Well, you did a good thing tonight.” Tolomon finished locking the chains in place. There was a smile on Tolomon’s face that hadn’t made an appearance since before Indenuel had made this deal with Navir. Indenuel didn’t realize how worried Tolomon had been until he saw him smiling.

***

Martin watched Nathaniel carefully throughout dinner. While all the other family members talked and laughed, Nathaniel and Rosa stayed quiet unless someone spoke to them first. Even then, Nathaniel was far quieter than usual. He always clammed up whenever there was a situation he needed to handle. He always felt like it was his responsibility alone.

Martin was in the process of cutting his chicken when he gasped, his knife slipping off his plate. Nathaniel’s eyes shot toward his direction. “Father?” Martin dropped his silverware and lifted his hands. He sensed it come back, just as he sensed when it left. His gift. Nathaniel had an arm on his shoulder, looking concerned. “Is everything alright?”

Martin reached over, touching his son’s temples. He sensed him, every part of him. His beating heart, the blood rushing through his body, the mental pain that he filled with power to ease the anxiety. Martin opened his eyes, aware there were tears there. “I have never been better.”

Martin sighed, placing his hands together and smiled. Indenuel had forgiven him. Yes, he had his gift back, but he was just as anxious to see if the mark was gone.

“I need to go. Save the rest for when I return. Thank you, Sara,” Martin said.

Sara looked surprised but nodded.

***

Inessa was eating her plate of dinner quietly. She wanted to lean her head on Indenuel’s shoulder, but Tolomon was sitting between them, eating his own plate as though he wasn’t aware how much he was in the way. Yet somehow Inessa figured this was exactly what he had in mind.

“Any news of the Empress?” Inessa asked.

Indenuel smiled. “I’m in a dungeon. I don’t know what else I would know that you don’t already.”

“Nonsense, I’m certain you know far more than I do,” Inessa said.

“She’s a few days away, and I’m doing my best to prepare for her.” He hardly finished when the door opened. Martin walked in, sounding out of breath. Indenuel glanced up, surprised. “Hello M-” Indenuel hardly finished before Martin helped him stand up. Tolomon took Indenuel’s plate before Martin hugged Indenuel tightly.

“Thank you, my boy. Thank you,” Martin said.

Indenuel patted him on the back, surprised as he glanced at Tolomon. “Dalius told you, then?”

“No.” Martin broke away. “My gift has returned.”

Indenuel was shocked. “Oh. That’s right. I… I thought you needed to be in the room for that to happen.”

“I guess not,” Martin said, lifting a hand and smiling. “Either way, as long as the mark is removed, I do not care.”

“It’s not. Not yet. It’s pink,” Indenuel said, running his hand down the front of his shirt while glancing at Inessa.

“It is progress,” Martin said, hugging him again. Indenuel hugged him back. “I did not wish to intrude. I know how precious this time is with Inessa, I just… thank you.”

Martin broke away again, patting Indenuel’s back before bowing toward Tolomon and Inessa and leaving the cell. Inessa watched, curious, before turning to Indenuel who had sat back down. Tolomon handed him back his plate.

“Did you forgive him?” Inessa asked.

“I did,” Indenuel said, looking down at his plate, almost embarrassed.

Inessa smiled, catching Tolomon’s eye. “I’m glad. He’s a good man.”

Indenuel said nothing for a moment as he moved his corn around on his plate. “Well, he forgave me first.”

Inessa smiled. “That much closer to the wedding then, right?”

Indenuel finally met her eye, smiling. “Martin knew what he was doing with his incentives to get the mark off.”

Inessa’s smile widened. Indenuel leaned against Tolomon in order to take her chin to kiss her. Inessa kissed him back, being careful not to touch Tolomon.

“I guarantee no one is more excited for this wedding to happen than me,” Tolomon mumbled, his plate above their heads as he tried to finish his dinner.