“I want that back,” I say, before striding across the room toward the stairs.
“Mmhm,” she murmurs, her eyes not leaving the page to even acknowledge me.
Fin’s smile gets wider with every step until I’m next to him, wrapping my hand around his tiny fingers.
“Where are we going?”
“To my bed! Will you help tell my story tonight?” he says, his eyes wide and pleading as he looks up at me.
I glance up at Weston, catching the slight pink tinge to his cheeks.
He’s been telling Fin stories every night?
My mouth falls open slightly in disbelief. How can this man who cares so deeply about the people around him not want a family? Is his decades old friendship with my father worth the sacrifice of something he so clearly enjoys and desires?
“Of course,” I say, turning back to Fin. “But I’ve never told a bedtime story before, so you might need to help me.”
“Mister Weston can help you. He’s really good at them,” Fin says and yanks us both up the steps behind him.
Fin releases our hands just as we reach the door to the crew’s quarters and races inside, disappearing around the corner. Weston shifts in the doorway, turning sideways, trying to keep his bulky body out of the way. He gestures for me to enter, so I stride past him, my shoulder brushing his chest as I squeeze past in the narrow doorway.
I ignore the heat and tingles spreading over every point of contact and walk straight into the room, scanning the space for Fin, spotting him just as he jumps onto a bed that is tucked away into the corner of the room. He flips his body around on the bed and slides under the blankets, pulling them to his chin and waiting for us.
I’m too aware of how close Weston walks at my back, close enough that if my steps were to stutter at all, he would bump into me.
Don’t do it, Lennox.
We reach his corner, and I sit down on the side of the bed, Weston kneeling beside my knees, facing Fin. It’s obvious this is a nightly occurrence with how comfortable both of them look at being near each other. My chest aches as I watch them silently, thankful Fin has someone that cares about him as much as I do.
“Any requests tonight?” Weston asks, as he leans his elbows on the edge of the bed, clasping his hands in front of him. Fin’s face lights up.
“I want Lennox to tell it!” he cries, looking past Weston to me expectantly.
The room is empty, the rest of the crew not yet turned in for the night, so I don’t have to worry about anyone listening to me stumble through trying to tell a story. I’d heard plenty over the years from Edmond, but in this moment, my mind is blank of every single one, except for the one that brought me here. I need to make up one of my own and hope it is enough to ease him to sleep.
“Once upon a time,” I start, then pause to think.
Fin doesn’t know who I am; I’ve kept it a secret, so to him, I’m just Lennox, the girl who came to Dawnlin right before him, and taught him to shoot a bow. I know he would be my selection of who among us should be sent home when we get the dust, and I don’t want him to leave without knowing me, the true me, even if he doesn’t realize it.
Maybe someday he will piece it together.
“Once upon a time,” I say again, “there was a princess who lived in a big, stone castle.” Fin’s smile widens at the mention of a princess and castle, so I keep going.
“She never left the castle. She only knew everyone who worked there, so she didn’t have any friends to play with.”
“Poor princess,” Fin says, a frown forming on his lips.
Weston’s head sinks slightly, his chin dipping to his chest, and I wonder if he realizes I’m talking about myself.
“She may not have had any other children to play with, but she had lots of books to read. She would read about different worlds, with princes and dragons and giants. Every day, it was like she lived in another place, even though she never left the castle.
“Her favorite parts of the books were when the princess could go to a grand ball, with lots of food and music and pretty dresses, and dance with princes. She wished she could go to a ball of herown and waited a long time until one was planned to celebrate her birthday. She was so excited to meet new friends and dance and sing. She dressed up in a brand new big gown and got ready for the party, but when she opened the doors to the ballroom, no one had come.”
Weston lets out a breath through his nose and shakes his head slightly. The knuckles on his outstretched hands are white, and I pull my eyes away from them and look back at Fin.
He understands.
“Oh no,” Fin says, his eyebrows crunched together and forehead creased.
