“No,” I grumbled.
“What did he do this time?”
“He bombards me with shiny things in hopes of distracting me from his foul play,” I huffed. “He is insufferable.”
“Right,” she said slowly.
“Then—then—he has the audacity to judge me for not trusting his intentions. Can you believe it?”
“I cannot.” She pressed her lips into a fine line, as if she were biting her tongue.
“Say it,” I demanded. “I know there is something you wish to say.”
“I think...” She paused to choose her words carefully. “You know well that I am no fan of my brother, but with my knowledge of his distasteful spirit, in my own judgment, he may actually be concerned for you. No matter how questionable his methods, he rarely does much for anyone other than himself.”
I stirred the pieces of vegetables and potatoes in the broth, watching the oil swirl at the top.
“You are angry,” she huffed. “You told me to say what was on my mind.”
“I am not angry.”
“Then why are you not saying anything?”
“Forget it,” I conceded.
“You must understand me clearly. I do not believe you to be broken. You aretraumatizedby him, and in turn, also myself. It makes sense that your mind is trying to adjust, just like it did, knowing my nature. You need time. You are not obligated to accept change quickly, especially fromhim.”
“Then why does it feel like I am holding everyone back?”
“You are moving usforward, not backward.” She put her hand on my leg and squeezed. “We wouldn’t have what we have now without you. No one is angry with you for things out of your control. We are all grateful, the girls only speak about you in admiration and awe.”
“That is a lie.”
“It is not! I swear on it!”
“You are just trying to make me feel better.”
“You missed the most amusing banter at dinner.” She grinned, but her throat bobbed in a thick swallow, as if to make the question brewing disappear.
“What is it?”
“Luka,” she sighed. “The girls are asking. They can’t get a good read on him or you. Do we tell them if he is a friend or foe?”
“Tell them they’re not to let him feed,” I said carefully. “He can scavenge in the town, not that any local Guilds will take a stranger.”
Phoebe nodded and took in the new surroundings, watching the snow flutter by the panes of foggy glass. She moved from the floor to my side on the couch.
“Anything else?”
She bit her lip and shook her head.
“Phoebe,” I winced, “what is it?”
“Nothing!”
“Phoebe!”
“It’s nothing to worry about!” she laughed. “Just... the wedding is a high point of discussion.”
