Malgarius was blaming himself. For everything.
"But I'm okay," Gwendolyn said, her voice gentle. "I'm right here. We're both alive."
"Barely," he muttered.
She took a tentative step towards him, her heart aching for him. "We can't dwell on the past. We have to keep moving forward."
He remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Gwendolyn took another step towards him, placing her hand on his arm. "Look at me, Milord."
Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet hers. The anguish and guilt were etched into his face, and her heart broke for him.
"Please don't blame yourself," she said softly. "We're both here, and we're alive. That's what matters."
He looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer.
"You're not alone," she whispered. "I'm right here."
"I'm sorry," he whispered back.
"There's no need for apologies. You didn't do anything wrong," she said.
