“It was the right size.”
“Angelina is going to be upset.”
“Angelina said I could.”
“Did she, now?”
A pause. The pencil stills. “She said I could useatablecloth.”
“And you chose the most expensive one in the house.”
“It was the best for building.”
I hold her gaze. Neither of us blinks. This is a negotiation, and she knows it.
The fact that she is six years old and already understands business transactions is either the proudest or most concerning result of my parenting.
“I’ll handle Angelina,” I concede.
She nods. This was never in doubt, so she returns to her armored cat.
I watch her draw. The small, sure movements of her hands. The way she holds the pencil and slightly furrows her brows the way I supposedly do as well.
“Papa.”
“Mm.”
“You can come inside if you want.” She tilts her head toward the interior of the fort. “But you have to take your shoes off.”
I examine the entrance. It was not designed for a man of my dimensions. Getting in will require a level of physical compromise that will, frankly, cost some of my dignity. Getting out will be worse.
I take my shoes off.
With some struggle, I make it inside. She rearranges herself to make room, and I sit with my knees drawn up and my head brushing the tablecloth ceiling.
“The knight needs a sword,” she announces, returning to her drawing. “Can you draw a sword?”
“I can draw a sword.”
She hands me a black pencil and points to the space beside the knight’s gauntleted paw. I draw a sword. It is, objectively, not a good sword. It resembles less a weapon and more a slightly aggressive rectangle.
Anya studies it for a long moment.
“That’s okay,” she says. The kindness in her voice is devastating. “I’ll fix it later.”
“Thank you for your generosity.”
“You’re welcome.” She pats my arm once before returning to her work.
We stay like that for a few minutes. She seems happy, but I know she must be lonely. Which reminds me… I still have to choose a governess.
“I have work soon,” I eventually muster.
“I know. You always have work.”
The words carry no accusation or resentment. She understands that I have to leave. She also understands that I will come back.
“I’ll come say goodnight,” I tell her.
