“Oh um,” he said. “The door was unlocked.”
I had to remind myself he was owned. He had no rights. “I wasn’t planning on barging in. This is your space. I’m just checking up on you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“You haven’t been down for a meal or to see the house.” Quickly, my mind worked up an excuse for my being here. “I thought you might like a tour.”
“Does Malin want to….”
“Malin left. It’s just me and I am, uh,” I cleared my throat. “Responsible.”
Kirion shifted from foot to foot. His hair was messy but still bright and shiny, hanging to his shoulders like rays of light. I usually didn't notice things like that about people. There was a sort of place in my mind that I stayed in most of the time. Work mode; some people would call it that. It was also self-preservation mode. I had gotten in the habit of living there even after my grief for my husband waned.
As a result, I was aware I was an absent father to Malin for most of his teenage years. I was responsible for him and his character now. I knew that. Which was why I probably wasn't thinking properly when I purchased Kirion.
“Responsible?” Kirion looked confused.
“For you.”
“Oh. I guess I don't know how all this is working yet. What I'm supposed to do. What’s expected of me. What did you expect to happen?”
The question made me shift my shoulders as if there was an unexpected itch. Honestly, I couldn't quite answer. My reasons remained vague. I only saw a future where everything worked out and Malin fell in love and settled down and was happy. I wanted to give my son that at the very least. Things perhaps that were missing from my own life.
I had no idea how to put all that into words for Kirion. Instead, I said, “I suppose I expected you and Malin would find that you were somewhat alike and hit it off.”
“I guess you surprised him too much….” His voice trailed off and he glanced down the hall.
“Don't worry, Malin has left. They'll be gone if few days at least. I never know and he never checks in with me anymore.”
Kirion’s eyes widened. He still wouldn't look at me. He said nothing.
I let out my breath slowly so he wouldn't see my frustration. “Well, come. Follow me. You need to know your way around.”
“Yes, sir. May I get my slippers?”
“Shoes. We’ll be walking the grounds.”
When he returned, he had on soft black walking shoes.
I turned, trusting he'd follow me down the stairs. His footfalls were light. Different from Malin’s constant stompingabout, or the scurrying of servants. Or my own footsteps echoing too loudly in my ears. It was sort of nice.
He’d already seen the second floor. Well, the main part which was Malin’s game room. I showed him what was through the other doors. One led to Malin’s bedroom, another to a large spare suite with two separate bedrooms for his friends if they stayed over.
Kirion kept his head down. This was where he would spend a lot of time if Malin did claim him. I hurried through that floor, disliking the awkwardness. The discomfort.
I turned, stretching out my arm without thinking to let him pass and go down to the first floor in front of me. It was manners. Letting the guest go first. Damn, my mind must’ve been still half asleep. He was a guest, yes, but owned. So not really. He was living here now and would be for who knew how long. Until Malin decided he didn’t want to be here anymore.
I tried but could not see that future. Or any future, at the moment. Just the thought of giving him to Malin now had my stomach curdling.
The downstairs had the largest, most lavish rooms. It was a world of shining parquet tile and arched double doorways and high ceilings with ivy carved into the beams.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Kirion barely glance at anything I pointed out.
Why should he look? Why should he be interested in any tour, or anything I had to say, for that matter, when he knew I wasn’t his and never would be. Not even technically as a father-in-law?
I reminded myself he wasn’t impressed by mansions. By things. He’d grown up in luxury. But it was luxury he knew would never be his. He wouldn’t inherit. He wouldn’t even be able to join his known pack to become a productive member. And here, dragons would see him only as breeding stock.
“Let’s go outside.”
