She straightened, crossing her arms, and something about the way she studied him set Finn on edge. “What happened?” she asked.
Finn stiffened. Too perceptive. “Nothing.”
Gwenna’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Finn grimaced, dragging a hand through his hair. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” he muttered, more to himself than her. He didn’t meet her gaze, focusing instead on the scuffed floor. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just need to find him.”
She studied him, clearly debating her response. Then she set her tool aside with a clank against the table. “He’s in his workshop. But Finn…” She hesitated, something shadowed behind her eyes. “There are things you don’t understand.”
“Then maybe someone should start explaining,” he snapped, unable to curb his frustration.
Gwenna’s expression didn’t change, but she sighed, shaking her head. “If Cedric hasn’t told you, then it’s not my place.”
Finn’s jaw clenched. Another wall. Another locked door. “Thanks for the help,” he said, not quite meaning it.
“Finn,” Gwenna called after him.
He stopped, exhaling sharply before glancing back.
She held his gaze, her arms still crossed. Still wary. “Be careful with him,” she said finally. “If you hurt my brother…”
He raised his brows. “You’ll hit me in the head with another rock?”
Gwenna aimed a pleasant smile at him. “I’ll make that feel like a love tap.” She winked, then went back to her tinkering.
“Understood.” Though hurting Cedric…that was the last thing he wanted to do.
The walk to Cedric’s workshop felt both interminable and far too short. With every step, his thoughts raced ahead of him. What if Cedric refuses to talk? What if the answers I get aren’t the ones I want? A part of him feared what lay at the heart of all this secrecy, but fear wasn’t enough to stop him.
Before he could second-guess himself, Finn reached the workshop door. He took a fortifying breath, clenching his fists at his sides for a moment before knocking.
A pause. Then Cedric’s voice, soft through the thick wooden door: “Go away, Finn.”
Finn swallowed and squared his shoulders. Not the answer he wanted, but it was a start. “How did you know it was me?”
“Because Gwenna and Clarence don’t knock,” came the muffled response.
Cocking his head, Finn considered barging in. But something about that didn’t feel right. He wanted Cedric to make that choice. “You know, I could take that as an invitation to stop knocking altogether.”
Another pause—longer this time. A beat of hesitation so thick Finn could feel it pressing against the door. Then, finally, the latch clicked, and the door creaked open.
Cedric stood silhouetted against the warm lamplight, the sharp planes of his face cast in soft shadow. Finn’s breath caught. He looked tired. Not just exhausted, but worn through, like fabric stretched too thin—dark circles under his golden-brown eyes, hair disheveled.
“Sir Finnian,” Cedric said, his voice crisp, the formality deliberate. Finn could hear the careful distance in it, the way Cedric wielded his title like a shield. “Now’s not a good time.”
Finn’s jaw clenched. “It’s never going to be a good time if you keep avoiding me,” he shot back, pushing past Cedric into the workshop. The scent of sawdust and oil filled the space, mingling with something faintly smoky. Finn turned to face him, arms crossing over his chest, determined to hold his ground. “We need to talk about what happened.”
Behind him, Cedric sighed, the sound heavy, edged with something dangerously close to defeat. The door clicked shut, and when Finn glanced back, Cedric was leaning against it, arms braced as if physically holding himself in place. Like if he let go, he might do something reckless. Like if he let go, he might come closer. After a moment, he retreated from the door, giving Finn a wide berth as he moved closer to his workbench.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Cedric’s voice was flat, controlled—except for the tiniest waver, a hairline fracture in its icy composure.
“Nothing to talk about?” Finn repeated, incredulous. “Cedric, you kissed me. We kissed. And then you ran away like the place was on fire and have been avoiding me ever since. I think that warrants at least a conversation.”
Cedric turned away, silent, though Finn caught a tremor in his shoulders.
“Is it because you’re a prince and I’m just a knight?” Finn challenged.
Cedric’s head snapped up, startled. “What? No, of course not.”
