Thom had never considered himself religious, but spending every hour in a dark cell gave a man time to think - and plenty of time to regret. As the days and weeks passed, he found himself picturing the faces of everyone he had wronged, first hoping and then praying that they were somehow safe and happy, that he hadn’t doomed them to lives of misery with his selfish actions.
Was Mornay free now? He should be, if there was any justice. His testimony should have been enough to absolve the man of any wrongdoing. And what of the others? Lory? Mathey? Carpentier? Had they managed to avoid capture? Did they have new names and new lives far away from Orlais? At least they would be hunted no longer now he had turned himself in. No more men would die in his place.
But there was one person he thought of before anyone else, one person whose suffering at his hands inspired more feelings of guilt and shame than any other. Eve. What he had done to her was despicable.
He remembered the last time he’d seen her, when she’d come bursting into the prison, her rage a force to be reckoned with. The Inquisitor’s temper was legendary, a sight to behold even when it was aimed elsewhere. Feeling her anger directed at him had been quite the experience. One he was sure he would remember for the rest of his life.
He wasn’t proud of how he’d acted that day. He should have apologised and begged her forgiveness, inadequate as it would have been. But instead, he had responded to Eve’s fury with fury of his own, taking the anger he felt at himself and flinging it at her. The hurtful words he’d shouted, the stricken look on her face as she’d fled the room, he wished he could erase all of it.
He longed to see her again. He needed to put things right, needed to tell her- Tell her what, exactly? That he was sorry? That he’d never meant for any of this to happen? What good would it do? Hadn’t he caused her enough pain? No, let her hate him. Let her move on and find a man with a noble heart and heroic deeds to his name. Let her find the man he’d been pretending to be.
He heard raised voices just before the door to the anteroom opened with a bang. There was a jingle of keys, and then somebody was unlocking the door to his cell.
“What’s… going on?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the glow of the man’s lantern.
“You’re being released into the custody of the Inquisition,” the guard explained. “Apparently the Inquisitor wishes to pass judgement herself.”
He stumbled into the anteroom where he was met by a small group of soldiers, the sigil of the Inquisition emblazoned across their breastplates. Two of them took him by the arms and led him out into the night. He breathed deeply, appreciating his first taste of fresh air after so long underground. So it seemed he would be seeing Eve again after all. But what that meant for him, he could only guess.