A silence so sharp it could cut through glass settled between them.
Neil’s jaw clenched, and Kristen could tell he had things he wanted to say. Finn, on the other hand, shifted so his back rested against Neil’s knee, as if he had placed himself there on purpose.
Neil froze for a beat, then relaxed. The boy’s slight weight did not hurt his body, but Kristen could see from the look in his eyes that it hurt his soul.
Good.
Perhaps this was the first step towards mending their broken relationship.
Could a relationship even break if it never existed in the first place?
“Read,” Anna urged, pressing the book into Kristen’s palm to end a conversation she did not understand.
Kristen opened the book to the first page and read again, slower. Neil, on the other hand, said nothing. His hand moved of its own accord to scratch behind Maggie’s ears. The dog sighed in deep contentment and flopped heavily on Kristen’s foot.
Finn leaned back further against Neil’s knee. Anna curled into Kristen’s side with the book half on her lap, as if she were reading it by touch alone.
When Kristen finished reading the story the second time, Finn clapped his hands. “I will be a dragon.”
“Ye already are,” Kristen said, tapping his small sternum. “Ye guard treasure every day.”
“What treasure?” he asked.
“Why, me and yer sister, of course,” she chuckled, stroking his cheek.
Neil looked at her, judgment plain on his face. He looked away when she refused to acknowledge it.
“The world willnae praise ye for sweet lies; I hope ye ken that,” he said softly.
“I am nae lying,” she muttered, her hand still on Finn’s cheek. “I am only showing them a way the world could be, so they ken what to do.”
“And if it refuses them?” Neil asked.
“Then they will have the practice of trying at the very least,” she said. “Which is more than I had.”
The next few minutes stretched easily and tightly all at once.
Finn hunted for stones that looked like coins and piled them on Maggie’s back. Anna turned one of the shrubs into a sword and knighted a beetle.
Kristen let the silence sit between them, basking in the afternoon sun and the rustle of the leaves overhead.
Neil watched her mouth when she spoke of gentleness and looked away when she caught him. He listened for the sound of approaching boots even here, and every time the breeze shifted, he squared his shoulders as if he bore a weight no one else could see. The habit lived in him as deep as the bones in his body.
Once, Kristen caught him looking over his shoulder and exhaled. “Ye have nothing to worry about,” she murmured. “This is a place of rest, nae vigilance.”
He shook his head once. “I daenae rest.”
“Ye could learn. It is surprisingly easy to do,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
His eyes flicked to the water. The light there was blinding. “Ye could tell them the truth,” he said, but the words lacked bite.
“That is where ye decided to go?” she scoffed.
He shrugged. “I am only saying that we both have a lot to learn.”
Kristen opened her mouth to snipe at him when a maid crossed toward them with careful steps, her apron twisted in her hands. “Me Lady, it’s time for the bairns’ nap.”
Finn saw them from afar and ran back to Kristen, pouting. “I am nae tired.”
