Chapter 15

In the deep autumn of Leofric, the air was piercingly cold, and the sycamore leaves in the cemetery rattled a dry, mournful cry against the insistent wind. Tara was laid to rest in a cemetery outside the city that overlooked the Torren River. Quentin stood rigid in a black suit, a white rose stark against the dark fabric of his lapel. He held himself perfectly straight, yet there was a deep-seated ruin about him, a palpable sense of defeat that no crisp suit could hide. He had personally selected Tara's gravestone, inscribed only with "Tamara Schmidt", deliberately omitting any dates. That omission suggested a fierce denial, as though she had not truly gone but merely continued her presence by his side in another form. Only a handful of people had come to mourn, mostly Quentin's business partners and neighbors in Eldoria. Susan's eyes were bloodshot. She carried a bouquet of simple white daisies, setting them down carefully before the marker, and murmured with a tearful catch in h