“Oh, right, of course. Thank you for lending me your clothes! I don’t know if I could have coped wearing my dirty work overalls every day,” I say with a laugh.
“It’s no bother at all, really. I hope these two have looked after you?” Her question makes me stop briefly. Is she aware that I’m a prisoner? That I’m here not by choice but by the decisions made by men around me? Before I can answer her, we’re being called into the kitchen by Mara. We gather around the table, and I look around at this family, feeling a sense of both longing and loneliness. I never had big family dinners, maybe before I lost my parents, but I can’t remember them. My grandmother and I would try to sit at the table for food, but with just the two of us, it always felt like someone was missing, so we mostly ate in front of the TV, watching her favourite shows. I never sat there wishing for noise or extra chairs, didn’t ache for laughter bouncing off the walls. We were fine, the two of us, content. But sitting here now, listening to the siblings argue with Mara reaching across the table to fix Rowan’s cloak, I realise there's a difference between being content and being full. Back then, I never noticed the empty spaces, but now I do. Now I can see them everywhere. They pass the bowls between each other, tearing into the bread and murmuring about their weeks.
“Hold up,” Kael’s voice booms. “You’re eating carrots?” he says to Rowan, feigning shock. Rowan pauses.
“What is it with you and commenting on the vegetables I eat, seriously?” he says. It earns a laugh from Mara and Bryn.
Kael turns to his sister, “Bryn, why are you not as surprised as me? You were there. He swore he’d never eat them again.”
“I was twelve,” Rowan cuts in.
“You may have been twelve, but you were deadly serious," Bryn chuckles.
“You were pretty dramatic about it, Ro,” they continue their bickering, and I watch in awe at the sight of Rowan, unguarded. Finally, at ease and smiling. A real and genuine smile.
“They are quite the pair, aren’t they?” Mara whispers to me, shaking her head.
“Are they always like this?” I chuckle.
“Hell, I hope not. That’s your two highest-ranking knights right there."
“Have you known Rowan for a long time?”
“Since he first learnt to walk. His mother died during childbirth, his father left him before he could even form his first word,” she whispers. I’m lost for words, it’s achingly familiar.
“That’s… awful. It’s nice that you were there for him.”
“I was best friends with his mother. We grew up together. We were so excited when we got pregnant so close together, always hoped our babies would be close. It was awful when we lost her, never forgave his dad for leaving. I hope he rots in hell.” She gives Rowan an endearing look.
I suppose she is as much his mother as Kael’s.
“I’m just glad to see him smiling again. He’s been in such a dark place,” she says, and my ears prick up. “When we lost Masen, it devastated us all. But Rowan took it harder than the rest. Blamed himself, still does, I think,” she gives an endearing look at Rowan, who is now looking between me and Mara. I’m about to ask who this Masen is when the front door blows open with a slam. I jump at the sudden noise, the boys immediately standing to attention, hands on the hilts of their swords.
They both walk towards the door carefully as we all wait in anticipation. I half think it’s one of the castle knights demanding I’m back in the glasshouse this instant. But they both return, relaxed and at ease.
“Just the wind,” Kael says. “It’s bad out there,” Kael says, turning to Rowan, who fixes his gaze on the ground. “No way we can travel back in that."
“You’ll stay,” Mara says.
Rowan opens his mouth to speak. I assume he’s about to turn down the offer, but Mara repeats herself firmly.
“You will stay.” And Rowan’s jaw snaps shut. Kael smirks playfully, giving me a wink before slapping a hand on Rowan’s back.
“I’ll need to contact the castle, let Aldric know,” Rowan states. Mara tuts in the background, clipping Rowan gently across his head.
“It’s King Aldric, Rowan. He is not your friend,” Mara says in warning. “You can use our hearthstone. "
I turn to Kael now, “What’s a hearthstone?”
“Right, I forget you’re from another realm sometimes,” he laughs. “A way of communicating. It uses old magic. You can transmit brief messages, but nothing long. It only works for about thirty seconds at a time.”
“So it’s like a phone?” I say.
“A what?”
“Never mind,” I shake my head, deciding it’s not worth the explanation. He doesn’t question it any further. They have magic to transmit messages, but they have no telephones. It takes a moment to admit it, but they’re better off without them. We built these little glass worlds to hold in our palms, and somewhere along the way, we forgot how to live in the real one. Trailing behind Kael into another room. It looks like a sitting area. Two blue couches sit on either side, with a wooden beam running through the centre of the room. A small wooden table sits off to the side with a chessboard. There are some things I can be glad they have here at least. Kael grins.
“How would you feel about another game of chess? I won’t let you win this time.”
