She studies me for a long moment. Then her gaze drops to my breast pocket.
The vial might as well be glowing through the fabric.
She doesn't reach for it or ask what it is. She just waits. Whatever she sees in my face disappoints her, because she sighs.
"I know you mean well, Torgan. But at some point, you have to trust that your sisters are their own orcs. They're grown. They get to choose."
They don't know their asses from their elbows, but I keep that thought to myself and nod.
"I knew you'd see it my way." She smiles. "Which is why I'm asking for your help."
"My help?" I ask warily. "With what?"
Ending the betrothals? No. Too much to hope for. And aside from the one they haven't announced, my sisters chose decent males.
I know that.
It has never been the point.
" Ysolde’s wedding is only a few weeks away, and Brynna’s follows soon after. They’ve heard of an atelier in Starling Vale. A dressmaker who creates gowns fit for queens. They intend to go." Her eyes brighten in a way I don't trust. "Considering you're already acquainted with Starling Vale..."
Did she just look at my pocket again?
"...and considering you insist on playing protector, you will escort them. See that no harm comes to them. Spend some time with your sisters before they're married."
The last part hits hard.
Because I can already feel the empty places they'll leave behind. I'm the eldest. The responsible one. I was there for every scraped knee and every broken heart. I made sure nothing reached them, all four of them, for as long as I could.
Now they will leave one by one.
And I will stay.
Torgan Oakenshade. Alone.
"I know you'll miss them," Ma says softly. She rests her hand on my shoulder. "You've been a good brother. This is your chance to show them while it still counts."
I don't want to do it. Escorting them to dress fittings means watching my family change one gown at a time.
But Ma is right.
"Okay," I say. "Okay, Ma."
She cups my cheek, proud. Then she gives it a light slap, which she considers affectionate and which still stings because she has never known her own strength.
I blink and look away.
"Come," she says. "Back to the bullshit before the Duke takes offence and rescinds the trade offer."
"I don't think he notices much of anything," I mutter as we turn toward the doors.
"He notices more than he lets on." The grimness in her voice makes me look at her, but her attention remains on the hall. "There is something about that man I don't like."
And his sons.
Inside, Pa and my sisters are still making small talk as if we never left. I return Ma to her seat and ease the chair in behind her.
"Apologies, my lords," she says. "I needed the air. You keep such lovely gardens, Lord Voss."
