Chapter Fifty-Two Abel
I know this letter isn’t necessary, but I want it on the record that unlike my father, I am happy to see the Slayers Guild expire. Please accept my resignation from training.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Abel
We’re headed for the exit when Marshal Payen runs toward us.
“Don’t go yet!” she shouts. “I have something for you.”
Short of breath, she forces a hefty coin purse into my hands. It jangles, stuffed with more soleils and lunes than I’ve seen since my parents died.
“We didn’t free Noctu for a bounty,” I protest.
“We have no further need for bounties. This is the remainder of Varsonne’s slayer budget.” She nods to Claire. “Take it. You two have more than earned it.”
“But—”
Claire plucks the coin purse from my hands and winks. “Nobody’s going to punish you for being a little greedy, Abel.”
Force of habit makes me hesitate, but as I watch Claire jangle the coins in front of a hopping Lucy, that hesitation melts away. A new rule occurs to me.
First rule of happiness: Make the most of opportunities.
Opportunities. Horses, land, a farm, the occasional luxury. A ring too, when the time is right. The future unfurls in front of me so clearly that I can hardly focus on one possibility at a time.
“A fair point,” I concede. “Thank you, Marshal.”
Claire smiles at me.
Apologies to the Church. I suppose I harbor some residual greed.