The food went cold while Finn worked. Eventually, Gordon removed the tray, most of it untouched. Finn didn’t notice.
/~/~/~/~/
The letter from Trent arrived on a Thursday. The Thursday he was meant to be spending with Darragh to the point where they’d written it into their marriage contract for time together. Finn had forgotten entirely, so engrossed in his studying.
Finn,
Hope married life is treating you well. Mrs. Weatherby asks about you constantly, wants to know when you’re visiting. The whole village misses having you around. There’s a leak in thevillage hall roof that’s driving everyone mad - water’s getting into the storage room. I tried to patch it, but you know I’m rubbish at roofing. Any chance you can come take a look?
How’s the castle? Fixed anything interesting lately?
Trent
Finn stared at the letter. The village hall roof. He could fix that in an afternoon. He knew exactly where the leak probably was - that corner had been weak since they’d rebuilt it three years ago. His hands practically ached to grab his tools and go.
But he couldn’t. He had briefings with three delegations’ advance teams next week. He had protocol reviews scheduled with Aldric. He had seating arrangements to finalize, menu approvals to complete and…
He picked up his pen.
Trent,
Summit preparations are proceeding well. All delegations have confirmed attendance, and preliminary schedules have been established. The castle staff is performing admirably under the additional workload.
I recommend hiring a professional roofer from the city for the village hall repairs. I can provide a referral if needed.
Finn
He sealed the letter and set it aside for Gordon to post before he could second-guess himself. The letter was professional, appropriate, and suitably distant - everything he was supposed to be.
The second letter came a week later, this time from Mrs. Weatherby herself. Her handwriting was shaky - she’d never been comfortable with writing - but the message was warm.
Dear Finn,
I’m having a birthday celebration next month and would love for you to attend. Nothing fancy, just cake and neighbors. I know you’re important now, but you’ll always be welcome at my table. Please come if you can.
With love,
Mrs. Weatherby
The old Finn would have written back immediately, promising to be there with a gift he’d made himself. The new Finn calculated the date against his summit preparation schedule and found a conflict.
He had Gordon arrange for an expensive gift basket to be sent - imported teas, fine chocolates, things Mrs. Weatherby would never buy for herself. He composed a formal note declining the invitation but wishing her well.
When Gordon left to arrange the delivery, Finn sat alone in his office and tried to remember what Mrs. Weatherby’s smile looked like when she laughed at one of his terrible jokes. The image wouldn’t come. All he could see were delegation rosters, seating charts, and protocols.
This is what it takes,he told himself.This is the price of not being an embarrassment.
/~/~/~/~/
Dinner with Darragh became another item on his schedule. Finn arrived precisely on time, dressed formally, prepared to discuss the day’s progress on summit preparations.
“The Northern Reaches delegation sent their final roster,” he reported, cutting into his roast chicken with mechanical precision. “I’ve reviewed the backgrounds of all twelve attendees and cross-referenced their political positions with our currenttrade negotiations. There are three potential areas of friction that we should prepare to address diplomatically.”
Darragh set down his fork. “Finn.”
“I’ve also coordinated with Helena on the cultural requirements for their quarters. They have specific dietary restrictions and prefer rooms facing east for morning prayers. I’ve ensured…”
“Finn, stop.”
