Her Graceful War Song novel Chapter 1598

At times, I taught my students to face life with courage and own up to their mistakes. Yet, I had not done so myself.

All these years, I had hardly seen Thomas. If there was an event where he might be present, I would quietly avoid it.

Back when I was still stubborn, Zoey had scolded me, saying I owed Thomas an apology. At the time, I didn't quite agree. In fact, I felt rather aggrieved.

But thinking back now—what was I so aggrieved about? Who truly owed me anything? Had the heavens not already treated me kindly enough? Everything I lost, I brought upon myself.

More than once, I had unfolded a sheet of parchment, intending to write him a sincere apology from the heart. Yet, each time I put a quill to paper, the ink would fall, but not a single word would follow.

I feared the letter would seem sudden and out of place, that it might stir suspicion in his wife's heart, or in Barrett's. Even though Barrett and I were husband and wife in name only, I still didn't wish to disturb the peace between us.

During this time, Barrett returned home a few times. Perhaps he noticed the crumpled bits of parchment left in my study, for he asked someone to warm a pot of wine and prepare some snacks, then invited me to sit with him.

Whenever he came back previously, we would dine together, but rarely spoke. And we had certainly never shared wine before.

I could tell he had something on his mind, so I poured him a cup, then one for myself as I waited for him to speak.

He drank slowly, then set the cup down with ease. He looked at me and said, "I've seen some parchment in your study these past visits. Looks like you wanted to write something, but never finished. Who is it you're trying to write to?"

Since I arrived at Victory Pass, we had kept our conversations plain and direct. We only spoke when there was something to say, and never beat around the bush. I rather liked it that way. It kept misunderstandings at bay.

So, I didn't hide it. I laid my thoughts bare and told him everything.

When I finished, I added, "It's nothing more than that. I simply wish to admit my faults while I still live, and to offer apologies where they are due. Only then will my heart feel truly at peace."

A flicker of puzzlement crossed Barrett's sun-darkened face. "Why didn't you say the words you wanted to him while you were still in the capital?"

I sighed. "I didn't dare."

He laughed, showing a flash of white teeth. "Indeed, apologising face to face takes a great deal of courage. Writing a letter is easier. So, go on then—write the letter."

"Do you mind?" I asked him.

He looked a little surprised, as though it had not occurred to him that I would care about his feelings.

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