“I’m sorry for your loss,” I mumble to Zeath after opening my eyes. I don’t bother to ask how he’s feeling. Although I can’t read his expression, I will just make do with the fact that he’s unhappy. “Zachili prefers his corpse be burnt, and his ashes scattered. I will not concern myself with anything relating to his funeral. I’m tired of funerals, and I’ve already said my goodbye.”

Zeath nods. “Let me bring the body.”

The moment he walks past me, I slowly shrug out of ...