Harlan didn’t bother replying.
‘Weird that your father told her. Ifyouhad told her, he probably would have disciplined you. I guess that’s the point he was trying to make—whatever you do, you’re in the shitter.’
Harlan sat up straight when he spotted Blake and Lyndal walking down the muddy path towards the wharf. Astin turned to see what he was looking at.
‘Ah, so that’s why you agreed to come.’
Harlan narrowed his eyes on what appeared to be a bruise on her face. His muscles grew rigid.
‘The best thing you can do for both of you right now is remain exactly where you are,’ Astin said. ‘Just let her go about her business.’
Harlan’s chair scraped the wooden floor as he rose, drawing the attention of the room. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
Astin rubbed his forehead. ‘I’ll pay, then, shall I?’
Harlan was already out the door, striding towards her. A bitter wind swept off the ocean, hitting him in the face. ‘Blake.’
She turned at the sound of his voice. He almost tripped over his own feet when he got a proper look at her face. A bruise covered one cheek and most of her eye. She brushed her long hair forwards over it, but it was too late by then.
Lyndal threaded a protective arm through her sister’s as he approached. He was undeterred, marching straight up to Blake and lifting her chin with his fingers so the hair fell away and he had a clear view of her injury.
‘I beg your pardon, Commander,’ Lyndal said.
Blake stepped back and pushed her hair forwards.
‘What happened to your face?’ He spoke through clenched teeth.
‘It’s nothing,’ Blake said absently.
‘Nothing?’ Harlan ran a hand over his head. ‘Your mother do that?’
Lyndal’s mouth fell open. ‘Our mother has never hit anyone in her life.’
Harlan heard Astin approaching at a jog. A moment later, a hand landed on his shoulder. ‘Just remember you’re not on duty.’ He leaned closer and whispered, ‘And we’ve had quite a few ales.’
‘Exactly,’ Lyndal replied.
Astin looked at her. ‘But he’s still the commander of your borough. You would do well to remember that.’
Lyndal stared back at him, unblinking. ‘You can spare me the empty threats, defender. What might actually be helpful is if you take your intoxicated friend and crawl back into the tavern you came from.’
A smile played on Astin’s lips as his eyes swept the length of her. ‘Shy little thing, aren’t you?’
It came to Harlan’s foggy mind then. ‘Did your uncle do this?’
Blake said nothing.
He stepped back, because he was worried the waves of rage rolling off him might knock her to the ground. ‘That bastard.’
‘Just leave it,’ Blake said, looking everywhere but at him. ‘Don’t make things worse for me.’
He stepped up to her again. ‘Hehityou.’
Her dead eyes finally met his. ‘You think I care about one bruise on my face?’
His eyes searched hers, and he understood then. She was trying to hold all the other broken pieces together—like he was.
Lyndal cleared her throat. ‘Ah, if you could just take one large step back, I knowIwould certainly feel a lot better.’
