Erthe had no idea why he had done what he'd done. The drow had just sworn something that he was now morally obligated to fulfill to the depths of his soul, and yet it was a promise he couldn't possibly keep. How was he to take care of Primrose when his entire mission seemed to be to her detriment? For now all he could do was keep her physically safe, as was his job, and he'd have to worry about the rest later.
The slave's horse fell in behind the dainty mare, and the pack horse followed behind him. Crimson eyes remained on her back, observing her in silence. She conducted herself admirably. Yes, Jain was quite right, a very special young woman. Erthe wasn't even sure how someone could both be so kind and gentle, and yet so proud and determined at the same time. If their positions had been reversed he didn't know that he could hold in his feelings so well.
His mind drifted to thoughts of Tara, another rather remarkable young woman. When the drow had been torn from her it had broken him. The light of hope had gone out of his eyes and heart that day. Had it really been twenty years? She would be older, married, and probably had grown or near-grown children by now. That thought stung him deeply, but at the same time, he knew that he deserved his pain - he had crossed a line, and had been punished for it. The gods still punished him for his transgression.
Erthe had fallen into a deep silence, his dark crimson eyes stared at nothing, listless.