All she garnered as she walked through the front courtyard were averted stares rather than appreciative looks, but that was due to her frown and also perfectly all right. Maeve didn’t want admiration right now, she wanted something to go her way.
Unfortunately for Connor, he was in her way.
Not literally—although the workshop was in her direction as she walked to the school.
She couldn’t help stopping by to peer critically at the messy space. Orek hadn’t been working there as much due to the cramped conditions. The man stood a head taller than Connor and was almost double him in width and bulk, yet he was also the sensitive sort, taking in every stray animal he found, sweettalking the horses, and afraid to hurt Connor’s feelings.
Maeve wasn’t.
“Just because the weather is warming up doesn’t mean you should be sleeping outside,” she reminded her brother, despite his back being turned and his head ducked. “You must take care of yourself, Con.”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled.
Ah, so he was awake. “You’re not. I canseehow badly you smell from here.”
That got her a glare from over his shoulder, but Maeve just nodded primly.
“Take a long bath. You’ll feel better.”
Connor snorted. “Maybe I will—and use up all your fancy soap from Gleanná.”
“At least you’d smell better.” Leaning forward, she glared at him when she added, “But if you use up my expensive soap, I’ll leave you tied up soaked in honey for a bear to find.”
It was a baseless threat, a common one between her and her brothers. She could always threaten them and they her, and they all knew it was in good fun—even if Sorcha, Blaire, and Keeley gasped and stared in horror.
Connor wassupposed tosmirk, even laugh, but all he did was shrug and drop his head.
“Go away, Maeve,” he muttered.
Maeve straightened, patting down her skirts to give herself something to do other than quickly do as he said and retreat. Resisting sticking out her tongue at him, she said sweetly instead, “Have a lovely day, brother.”
With that, she flounced away, not feeling any better for the exchange.
Honestly, what was wrong lately? Half her family avoided her, while the other half looked at her like she’d just interrupted something. She could hardly step into a room without everyone flushing and looking away.
She’d thought her mother and Sorcha would be pleased she was home for now, but even that had worn off quickly when they realized she wouldn’t be nagged into farm chores. Maeve wouldn’t be commandeered into the family business, not when she was younger, not now.
Something felt wrong in a way it hadn’t before, in a way she found difficult to describe. That she was unwanted, even unliked. She wanted to think that was her irritation talking, of course, especially since it led to an unpleasant thought—that perhaps her family had been happier without her.
She blamed her frustrations too for her tetchy mood that day. She contained it fairly well with the children, but her adult evening class was another matter.
Normally, when she discovered that someone hadn’t done the assigned practice, she would gently tease and move on. However, not for the first time, it quickly became clear that many of the single men who attended hadn’t done the assigned practice. Maeve was proud of her adult students; many of them were diligent in their studying and had much progress to show for it. There were a handful, however, who hardly hid that they saw the class as an excuse to see her.
“I’m learning lots just from your company, Miss Maeve,” said Astagarth, one of the bolder orcs, showing off his thick tusks in a flashy grin.
Normally, Maeve would have teased and smiled, remindingAstagarth and the five or so other single men who didn’t practice, that classes were for dedicated students. Today, though, Maeve didn’t have the energy or will to humor them.
Pursing her lips and giving them each her best schoolteacher stare, Maeve admonished, “If you aren’t going to learn, then best leave, gentlemen.”
Ulmo, a shier orc, held up his hands in placation. “We meant no disrespect, Miss Maeve.”
“Not practicingisdisrespectful—to me and to your classmates.” Maeve pointed at the door in the back. “It’s crowded and warm enough in here without extra bodies who don’t wish to actually learn.”
Quite a few others looked on in surprise, and more than one pleased grin was hidden behind a hand; she enjoyed it almost as much as the how the men squirmed through the silence.
She let it linger throughout the room, although it went a little longer than she intended when she caught Soren’s gaze. He watched on from his usual place against the far wall, near the door. Arms crossed over his wide chest, he offered a supportive nod.
Somehow, the gesture hit her in the chest harder than anything else. She would’ve preferred his amusement or embarrassment—his support actually hurt a little.
