Windsor was tired of everything. He was tired of running, tired of chasing, tired of protecting. He was tired of fighting, of betrayal, of lies. After she had turned her back on him and faced Azaldi, it began to show on his face. For a moment, he looked much older, weary and run down. It occurred to him then that he would have rather not gotten involved in any of this mess in the first place, and for a moment an irritated thought flew past that he regretted as soon as it appeared; 'I wish I would have left her there, she was never any of my business anyway.' As he walked off into the forest to a spot nearby, he hoped he hadn't meant it.
He hadn't seen the action as a betrayal; put simply, he had been sick and tired of not knowing who he was traveling with, especially when he had had to put blind trust in someone he didn't think he knew. Now, he wasn't sure if he wanted to trust her, either. In the back of his mind all he wanted to do was go home and forget that anything had happened.
He remembered the time when they had just sat and talked when she was in his house; he had assumed that Tiraris had hated him ever since the incident with the guards. In fact, Windsor was completely oblivious to the fact that she liked him at all in any way. He assumed that she just had been being nice to him before so he would let her out of the house; he assumed that now she had some guilt related to leaving Azaldi to be hanged, but at the very least disliked him anyway. That is why the flash of betrayal in her eyes surprised him; it hadn't ever crossed his mind that she may see it that way. Now, at this point in time, he assumed that she would hate him to the end of time and that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. After all, in his eyes, all he had done was cause her a mountain of trouble and somehow she would have gone off better without him. Windsor held no ill will against her and wished absently that they would have gotten to talk more, just in a normal conversation. The thought left a deep hollow in his chest, an opportunity lost that would never come back again.
--
Azaldi watched the tear fall down her face for a moment as he bandaged the wound carefully and used his magic to heal it carefully, a solemn look on his features. In a barely audible voice, he said, "Will you allow for me to say something to you?"