Halvard turned slightly, watching her reaction closely—too closely.
“We found him near the lower yard,” Halvard said. “Hidin’. Waitin’ fer a chance tae run.”
The boy flinched at Halvard’s harsh tone. That was the problem with him; whenever he was angry, whenever he couldn’t control his temper, it showed and it frightened those around him.
Elsie stepped forward instinctively. “Halvard, please… don’t put him in the dungeons.”
The boy’s breath hitched, tears pooling instantly at the mention of the dungeons. Elsie’s heart clenched in her chest seeing him like this. None of this was his fault. He was only a child, and he had been lured into it by people who should have known better than to put him in such danger.
But Elsie didn’t know if that would matter to Halvard.
“I dinnae intend tae,” Halvard said flatly.
Elsie blinked in surprise, the next protest dying in her throat before she could utter it.
“You… don’t?”
Halvard sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—a rare sign of uncertainty. “The lad claims he was promised coin if he helped. Said he didnae understand what the men planned. And after speakin’ with him, I believe him.”
Elsie’s chest tightened with relief. It was so strong that she almost collapsed with it, her knees threatening to buckle under her, but she steadied herself, giving Halvard a grateful look.
“So,” Halvard continued, straightening, “he’ll work in the stables fer a time. Clean, haul, fetch… hard but safe work. Under watch, until I deem him redeemed.”
Elsie exhaled in a rush, warmth blooming in her chest. “That’s… that’s very merciful of you.”
Halvard shrugged, discomfort flickering across his expression. “It’s justice, nae mercy. Actions must have consequences, but I’ll nae kill a bairn fer desperation.” His gaze drifted to Elsie. “Or fer bein’ foolish enough tae be led astray.”
The boy sniffled. “I’m sorry, me lady. I didnae mean fer ye tae get taken. They said ye’d only follow me far enough so they could talk tae ye.”
Elsie knelt and took the boy’s hands. They were so small in her own, and yet roughened by work and weather, and Elsie felt her heart seize again, the discomfort returning to her chest.
“You’re safe now. And I’m not angry with you.”
“Ye should be,” Halvard muttered behind her.
She looked up at him, her mouth pressing into a firm line. “Well, I’m not.”
Their gazes held—longer than they should have, warmer than the room allowed. Something unspoken passed between them, a current that hummed under her skin.
Halvard cleared his throat abruptly and looked away. “Sten will show the lad where tae sleep. He’ll start work in the morn.”
As Sten entered and led the boy out, Elsie stepped closer to him slowly.
“Halvard,” she whispered once they were alone, “I thought you would… punish him.”
“I’m angry but I’m nae heartless, lass,” he said. “I dinnae need more blood, let alone a bairn’s blood, stainin’ me floors. Nae when a scare an’ hard work will teach him far better.”
Her heart softened further. Though Halvard was trying to deny it, Elsie could tell he was sparing the boy because he, too, couldn’t bear to punish a child severely, regardless of what he had done.
“You saved his life.”
His jaw tightened and he shook his head, stubborn as ever. “I saved yer heart from breakin’. If I’d hurt that lad, ye’d have looked at me differently. And that…” He swallowed audibly, his gaze casting downwards, “That, I cannae stomach.”
Elsie’s breath stilled. Heat pooled in her chest, spreading outward like warm honey, like sunlight breaking through frost.
“You think about me feelings that much?” she asked, trying to hide the profound effect his words had on her behind a teasing tone.
Halvard’s eyes locked on hers—torn-bright, stripped of every guard he usually wore like armor.
