“Then why did ye run again?”
She pulled back, and he wiped her face with his sleeve.
Thalia stepped back from the exchange but remained close. She felt like this was something that they needed to settle down.
“Because,” Daisy whimpered, “I’m nothin’ but trouble. All I ever do is hurt ye.”
“Nay, sweetheart.” Finlay shook his head. “Ye only hurt me when ye run. Because then I go mad with worry about ye.”
She looked down. “Then maybe ye should leave me here.”
“Daisy.” He gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Ye’re me daughter. Ye belong with me in our castle. That’s yer home, ye understand?”
“But I’m nae yer real daughter,” she sniffled, more tears welling up in her eyes. “Nae by blood. That’s what matters, does it nae? That’s what that man said.”
Thalia clenched her hands into fists. So Daisy had heard. Of course she had. Thalia was angry at her uncle, but mostly at herself for not solving this issue before it started.
Finlay stood up and lifted Daisy into his arms. “Listen to me. I daenae care that ye arenae me daughter by blood. I will love ye, and I will protect ye, and I will take care of ye as if ye were me own blood. None of that matters.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “Even if ye and Thalia have children of yer own?”
That question made both Finlay and Thalia freeze in shock.
Thalia flushed at the insinuation, but Finlay managed to recover faster.
“Ye’re already a child of me own,” he insisted with a smile. “And from now on, I daenae want ye listenin’ to mean old men anymore.”
That earned him a small giggle, and he set her back down on the ground.
“Are ye ready to go back home?” he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded.
“And can ye promise me somethin’?”
“Aye.”
He placed his hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair. “Can this be the last time ye run away?”
Daisy looked up at him, her lower lip trembling, and Thalia thought she might start crying again.
“I promise.” Her voice wobbled at the beginning, but she stuck out her chin to prove she was serious.
“Thank ye.” His voice softened.
Daisy finally looked over at Thalia. She ran to her, grabbing her skirts. Thalia knelt down, squeezing the girl back tightly.
“I’m glad ye are well,” she sighed in relief.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said, the words muffled in Thalia’s shoulder.
“All right, we should be gettin’ back. It’s very late, and ye should have been in bed a long time ago.” Finlay’s stern voice was back.
Thalia let go of Daisy, and the young girl looked between the two of them, her eyes darting quickly back and forth like she wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how to ask.
“What is it, Daisy?” Thalia prompted.
“It’s just…” Daisy took a deep breath. “I want ye to ken that if yedohave bairns, it would be all right with me. I think I’d like to have a little braither or sister.”
