When Devvyn returned to the sitting room, Maelis was no longer pacing. She sat slumped in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees and her face buried in her hands.
He stopped in the doorway.
For a moment, the anger that had carried him out of the room faltered. He had never seen Maelis look so tired. Some small, stubborn part of him wanted to cross the room, put a hand on her shoulder, and tell her that they would figure everything out eventually.
Instead, he tightened his grip around the strap of his satchel.