and as you leave there are children playing at your feet

Prize? This warlord that had captured Poem seemed cruel, but Theory hoped at the very least his rules would be upheld. There was nothing more despicable than someone who couldn't stick to their own moral code. If he was a bastard, very well. Hopefully he at least had scruples. "I'll look forward to that visit," Theory replied emphatically, nosing Poem's cheek with all the affection she could muster. "I have to look after Rhyme, too," Theo added, unable to keep an undercurrent of bitterness out of her joke. It was hard to stay positive in the face of so much turmoil and tragedy - but she had to. She had to be strong for Rhyme and Motif and all of Abaven.

"I'll manage," she insisted, cracking a weary smile. "I'm hoping that teaching me some healing arts will keep him occupied. His mind seems to wander these days." Maybe if he taught her enough, she could cure his delusions - or at least try to ground him in reality most of the time. "How long can you stay this time?" Theory asked. There would be more visits after this. There had to be.