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I watch as he follows the soldier far enough away that I can’t hear them. While they converse, Klyn returns with Bron, who is eating a pastry like it’s a popsicle. Most of the icing has already transferred to the kid’s face, but he looks thrilled nonetheless.
“What’s going on?” Klyn asks me, nodding at Legion.
“Don’t know,” I say.
He watches but makes no move to join them.
Finally, he turns back to me. “You’re good for him, you know.”
“Are you trying to say I make him a better person?” I joke.
“Nah. He’s a grumpy asshole lately,” Klyn says, and I can’t help but laugh. “But he’s starting to wish for more for himself. And that’s a first.” He is somber as he says, “Thank you.”
His gratitude rattles me, but I manage to nod before he glances back to where Legion and the soldier are talking. I look over just as Legion breaks off from the soldier. The young male heads back the way he came as Legion rejoins us. He looks troubled, and my stress instantly skyrockets.
“What is it?” I ask, trying to prepare for something as equally horrific as feral bears.
He looks at Klyn as he answers. “Caius thinks the incident at the wall warrants a bigger solution.”
Klyn glances at me like he’s not sure whether to speak freely. “I see,” he says. “And does he have a suggestion for that solution?”
Legion scowls. “Paintball.”
“Excuse me?” Klyn asks.
“He’s ordered a mandatory week of war games. Thinks it’ll help the men blow off steam. We’re starting with paintball.”
Klyn shakes his head. “Does he remember what happened last time we did this?”
Legion grins. “He says Styx is banned from playing, so we’re fine.”
Klyn cackles. “In that case, put me in, coach.”
“Who’s Styx?” I ask.
Legion’s gaze swings to mine. “A friend. One I’d like you to meet, actually.”
“Boss, you’re supposed to be on leave,” Klyn points out. “You can sit this one out.”
“And let you win?” Legion snorts. “Not a fucking chance.”
Klyn laughs.
“Are we going to play games, Dad?” Bron asks hopefully. Blue icing is smeared across both cheeks and his nose. It’s adorable.
“Dad has to go to work, son, sorry,” Klyn says. And it’s clear from his expression that he really is sorry to have to leave Bron.
Legion motions to someone over my shoulder, and I turn to see Chaya and Kendall returning, both with a bag in each hand. Kendall gives me a look that says, “See, I’m safe.” My gaze zeroes in immediately on her shoes, which are mysteriously soaked despite the clear blue skies.
“Ferth is getting stingy with his apples,” Chaya complains to no one in particular. “He keeps this up and I might have to send a few more rainstorms his way.”
“What happened to your shoes?” I ask.
“What?” Kendall looks down. “Oh.”
“Whoops,” Chaya says, wincing. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Kendall says, laughing, and then to me, “Chaya showed me her gift of negotiating.”
