“Of course.”
“I think you should be up-front with her. There’s no time like the present.”
My stomach flips. “But what if—” I sigh. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Then at least you’ll know. You’ll both be able to move on, though I very much doubt it will come to that.”
“What makes you say that?”
Chyou grins at me. “Do you not see the way she looks at you?”
“The way she—?”
Her eyes flit up to look across the way. I follow her line of sight, curious. Past the tents and the movement of the other villagers, I spot Jyn at the base of a steep hill, surrounded by a group of young girls, the same ones from the banquet. They’ve taken a liking to her. They run around her in circles, giggling as they play. Jyn sits on the grass, legs tucked to her chest while her chin rests on her knees, arms wrapped around just so. As much as she feigns irritation, I can feel her contentment softly humming over our bond. Even at a distance, I can sense her quiet amusement.
Something tugs at my heart. Jyn looks surprisingly comfortableand right surrounded by these little ones. Motherly. There’s an ease to her now that I haven’t witnessed before, a sweetness to her small grin as they hand her bouquets of fallen leaves tied together with long blades of grass. Jyn humors them, holding on to these little trinkets protectively as the girls babble on.
For just a moment, our eyes lock. Is she looking at me, or the newborn in my arms? I can’t be sure. But there’s a fondness in her gaze, something patient and tender. Then she realizes she’s staring and looks away.
Only to shift her eyes back to me when she thinks I’m not looking.
My heart skips a beat when Jyn stands up to come this way. The little village girls chase after her, one of them going so far as to hold her hand as they traverse the frozen grounds. She trips, but Jyn expertly holds her arm up to keep the girl from falling flat.
Chyou smiles wide upon her arrival. “Ah, good timing. Would you care for some bone broth, Jyn?”
“No, thank you. Perhaps later.” Jyn glances at baby Jia, who has begun to stir again. “Still upset, I see.”
Chyou lets out a breathy laugh. “Unfortunately so. I fear the rest of the village will cast us out at this rate. We’ve been trying to get her used to solid foods, though as you can see…” Chyou gestures toward her red-faced daughter.
“Have you any honey and goat’s milk?” Jyn inquires.
“I believe we have a little of each in the stores, yes.”
“If you could please fetch both, as well as a clean towel.”
Chyou tilts her head to the side, considering. “Very well. I shall return.”
Jyn takes her place beside me, kneeling gracefully on the grass. She extends her hands out for the baby. “May I?”
I nod, carefully transferring Jia from my arms to hers. It is a heartwarming, natural gesture.
“How have you been?” I ask, my throat uncomfortably dry. “I’ve not seen much of you lately.”
Jyn rocks the child slowly in her arms. “I’ve been… thinking. About your question.”
My heart leaps up and lodges in my throat. It takes all my willpower to keep my voice even as I say, “Oh?”
“I’ve decided to tell you the truth, Sai, but…”
“What is it?”
“You must promise that you’ll listen fully and not act rashly.”
I lean a little closer, suppressing the excitement vibrating in every fiber of my being. “I swear it, Jyn.”
She nods, though apprehensively. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone. This isn’t the place.”
I, for once, agree wholeheartedly. The huntress has been lurking about the village. I may not have seen her these last few days, but I know she’s keeping watch somewhere—best if we don’t discuss such things out in the open.
