Fitz spent a long, sleepless night staring at the ceiling of his bedroom and wishing he would"ve said everything differently the night before.
Which didn"t take away from his relief that it was finally over. But he was pretty sure he had bungled it.
Finally, he couldn"t stand lying there arguing with himself for a minute more. He got up, pulled on the tunic and shirt that on Oymyakon served as his physical training uniform, then headed barefoot out to his sitting room. He knew that despite dawn barely brightening the sky to the east, someone from the kitchens had already been upstairs to lie out a breakfast buffet. He could smell the coffee and toast.
Not that he was remotely hungry. The idea of food had little appeal to him, despite the delicious smell of melted butter. He just needed
