Finn eyed him with interest. “We are reading about the dragon,” he revealed. “He keeps the treasure safe.”
“Does he now?” Neil asked drily.
“Aye,” Finn said. “He is kind.”
Neil’s mouth almost twitched. Almost.
Kristen touched the page. “The lass learned that a guard can still be gentleandstrong,” she read, feeling the words touch something inside her.
Anna tried to say “dragon” and managed a brave “dran,” which earned her a kiss on the crown of her head.
Neil listened. Each time the tale turned tender, his brow creased, as if softness made a poor blade. He said nothing until the last page, when the village lit candles for the dragon and the lass grew up surrounded by laughter.
Kristen closed the book and let her thumb rest on the worn leather. For a moment, the only sound was the rustle of reeds and the ripple of small waves.
“Stories should teach the truth, do ye nae think?” Neil muttered. “The world is cruel, Kristen. Children should be prepared for it.”
Kristen looked at the closed book as if it were something she must lay down. “Finn is only five years old, and Anna is little over two” she said. “I would rather tell them of dragons.”
“Best ye tell them of men,” he countered. “So the first blow doesnae take their legs.”
She swallowed, biting back the words that had gathered at the tip of her tongue.
Like it took their faither’s?
Her gaze fell to Finn’s hand, now curled into her dress. “I would rather someone had spoken to me of dragons,” she said, her voice low.
Neil went very still, and the air around them thinned. Finn glanced between them, sensing the shift, then leaned harder into Kristen’s side as if to anchor her.
“What did ye get instead?” Neil asked. His voice had lost its edge.
“Orders,” Kristen replied. “And silence.”
Anna tapped the book. “Another story, please?” she begged.
“In a moment,” Kristen said, brushing a curl from the girl’s forehead. She kept her eyes on the small task because looking at Neil would make the words spill too fast.
“How did orders keep ye safe?” he asked.
“They didnae,” she said. “They kept me small. And I promised meself to never feel that way again.”
Maggie shifted and set a paw on Kristen’s leg as if to cast a vote.
Finn extended his free hand toward Neil in solemn invitation. “Ye can read us a story as well,” he offered. “If ye want.”
Neil hesitated as if the book might bite. He put two fingers on the leather binding, taking in the drawing.
“A fierce beast,” he murmured, almost a question.
“Akindone,” Kristen corrected. “That is the point of the stories.”
“There are nay kind beasts, lass. Kindness gets folks killed,” he grunted.
“Cruelty does, too,” she said. “And abandonment.”
He shifted his gaze to the lake. “It is very clear that we were taught different things.”
“On the contrary, we were taught the exact same thing,” she insisted. “The only difference is that I didnae emulate what I was taught.”
