How could he refuse when she looked at him like that?
Murdock began the familiar tale, letting his voice fall into the rhythm he’d learned from his mother. The story of a fisherman who found a selkie on the shore, who hid her sealskin so she couldn’t return to the sea. The man kept her as his wife for seven years.
“But she was sad,” Skye interjected when he paused. “Because she missed the ocean.”
“Aye.” Murdock nodded. “She was sad because she’d been taken from where she belonged.”
“So the fisherman’s daughter found the sealskin,” Skye continued, taking over the story with the confidence of someone who knew it by heart. “And she gave it back to her maither because she loved her and wanted her to be happy. Even if it meant her maither would leave.”
“And did she?” Leona asked softly. “The selkie maither. Did she leave?”
Skye paused, looking troubled. “Most people say aye. She goes back to the sea and never returns.”
“That’s cruel,” Leona said.
“It’s honest,” Murdock countered. “Sometimes people leave, even when they’re loved. Even when they want to stay. Because the cage they’re in, nay matter how gilded, is still a cage.”
The words hung heavy between them.
Murdock saw understanding flash in Leona’s eyes, saw her recognize the parallel he was drawing. To her situation. To the choice she was facing.
“But in our story,” Skye said firmly, “the selkie maither comes back every summer. She stays on land with her family for months, then returns to the sea for the rest of the year. So everyone gets to be happy, and nay one has to be caged.”
“A compromise,” Leona said, her gaze still on Murdock. “Both people getting what they need instead of one sacrificin' everythin'.”
“Aye, that’s what makes it a good endin'.” Skye beamed at her. “Will ye tell us another story?”
Leona hesitated, then nodded. “All right. But ye have to help. When I pause, ye fill in what happens next.”
“Like a game!”
“Exactly, like a game.”
Murdock listened as Leona began a tale about a brave warrior woman who disguised herself as a man to join the King’s army. Her voice was animated, her hands gesturing as she described battles and narrow escapes. When she paused at a crucial moment, Skye jumped in with her own ideas, spinning the story in unexpected directions.
They went back and forth like that, building the narrative together, each addition more outlandish than the last. Rufus eventually joined in from where he’d been sitting nearby, adding his own flourishes about the warrior woman’s faithful hound companion, who could speak but only told terrible jokes.
Leona’s laughter rang out across the meadow, genuine and unburdened. She was caught up in the moment, in the joy of storytelling and play, not thinking about councils or threats or impossible choices. Just existing here, now, with people who cared about her.
With family.
The realization struck Murdock. That was what they’d become to her. Skye, with her enthusiasm and wisdom beyond her years. Rufus, with his quiet loyalty and fierce protectiveness of his sister. Nyx, despite her occasional use of claws. Even him, despite everything complicated between them.
They were the family she’d lost when her parents died. The belonging she’d been searching for.
And in six days, if they couldn’t find a solution, she’d lose them, too.
The thought made his chest tighten with something that felt dangerously close to panic.
“Look!” Skye suddenly pointed toward the stream. “Nyx is goin' to the water!”
Sure enough, the cat had abandoned Skye’s lap and was making her way toward the stream with deliberate purpose.
“She’ll be fine,” Rufus said, but he was already standing. “But I should probably make sure she doesnae decide to go swimmin'.”
“I’ll come with ye!” Skye jumped up, ready to follow.
“And I’ll make sure ye both daenae end up in the water,” Rufus added with a grin.
