When she's pulled close, her head easily finds a spot to rest against him, and something begins to unknot in her chest at being held, taken care of. For a little while, she's turned so that she can breahte him in and steady herself. Half her glass is gone faster than she means for it to be before finally deciding on an answer.

"I think I came here to forget, but there is one thing I want to say and it's that Sam—" her voice hitches and she has to start over. "Sam is good, at his core. None of this is his fault, we saw this coming, but it doesn't hurt any less. He's going where he knows he needs to, and I can't leave my followers in Solvunn." She's repeating all of the things she and Sam said to one another, the things she's told herself to try and satisfy the hurt and the ache of what's missing now.

"He was home, and I feel alone now between my four walls. As selfish as it might be to say, I wish he'd chosen me."

Claire swallows the rest of the wine in her glass even as her vision blurs and goes watery.