Found:
It was a mistake, wasn't it? Of course it was. Is it ever anything else?
Loakee came by, ostensibly to "save" me from the last of the wine that Bessie had gifted to me or so it seemed, though the underlying reason appeared to be questioning me concerning my recent chat with Owena.
I told her what she needed to hear. It was neither lie or truth and, of course, my words had made their way back to him. Baldvin, I wonder? The man was in the other room and, despite his initial protests to the contrary, does indeed seem intent on being his brothers' keeper. Or Owena herself? Ah, it hardly matters! Someone repeated my words. One would think he'd understand. One would think he can see where the distinctions lie; I made a deal with him concerning honesty and a lack of pretenses. I made no such agreement with his brother or the lovely baker. I owe them no absolutes.
Although, given how cagey he was through the remainder of our talk, I wonder if I owe him any either? I have kept my end of the bargain. I'm not so certain about him. Is he undecided, uncertain or simply unwilling to say? If the latter, then our deal is broken already but not by me.
We are fire, you and I, I told him. We burn all in our path. Owena is water; cooling, soothing, cleansing.
I meant every word.
I put myself out on the line. I stepped onto the thin branch suspended above the abyss. I've yet to fall in but... reading between the lines, I suspect it's too late. Would that be so bad? To be denied something I never had is no hardship. It would change nothing. There is time yet to stamp out the embers before a flame takes root. There is time yet to put my boot behind that door and close it before the monsters sneak inside.
From the line to the cage. Back in I go.
