Marcus grinned, the expression transforming his weathered face. “Your Grace, you’re welcome anytime.”
Word spread fast. By the next day, half the castle staff knew the king consort had crawled into a ceiling space to find a leak. The other half heard he’d spent an hour discussing foundation maintenance with the groundskeeper.
Helena found him in the north tower, examining a crack in the stonework.
“Are you creating a new scandal?” She didn’t sound disapproving, just amused.
“Just learning about my new home.” Finn traced the crack with his finger, felt the slight give in the mortar, and then looked up at her and smiled. “I had always felt like a guest here, and it’s time to change that. This needs repainting before winter.”
“The staff are talking.”
“Let them.” Finn turned to face her. “I spent months trying to be what I thought everyone expected, and honestly, it nearly destroyed me. I’m done pretending I’m something I’m not.”
Helena studied him for a long moment. “Good. Authenticity suits you better than performance ever did.” She paused. “Though I should mention that three servants have already asked if you’re hiring for your personal staff. Apparently,working for someone who understands their challenges is appealing.”
Finn blinked. “I haven’t thought about personal staff. No one ever mentioned it. I’ve been here for months and…”
“You’re the king consort. You’re entitled to your own staff.” Helena smiled. “Consider it. Think about how much more comfortable you might be if you had people around you who value your practical skills instead of expecting you to hide them.”
/~/~/~/~/
“We’ve got so much to do.”
Finn crossed his arms, facing down Darragh across the breakfast table. “Back when we got married, you promised me one day a week. We were supposed to spend it together, and it’s been months since we actually took it.”
“The summit starts in three days. I know the bulk of the work is done, but…”
“I know you’re too busy to come with me, but the summit starting in three days is exactly why I need this.” Finn softened his voice. “Please, Darragh. I haven’t been home once since our wedding. I’m asking for half a day. I need to go home.”
Darragh’s resistance crumbled. “Winrone?”
“Just for a few hours. I need to remember who I am before I face delegates who think I’m not good enough.”
“I’ve told you more than once that you’re more than good enough.”
“Touching base with the village will help me even more.”
Trent had the carriage ready within the hour. They rode in comfortable silence, the familiar landscape of Winrone cominginto view as they crested the final hill. Finn felt something in his chest loosen with every mile.
Mrs. Weatherby was in her garden when they arrived, wrestling with a basket of vegetables. She looked up, shaded her eyes, and her face split into a delighted grin.
“Finn! Oh, you wretched boy, you missed my birthday.”
Finn climbed down from the carriage, submitted to being thoroughly scolded and enthusiastically hugged in equal measure. “I’m sorry. I sent a gift…”
“Abasket. Very fancy, very expensive, and absolutely impersonal.” She swatted his arm. “I wantedyou, you foolish man. Title or no title, you’re still my Finn.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” And he was. “Let me make it up to you. What needs fixing?”
“The garden fence is falling apart, the gate won’t latch, and there’s a board loose on my front steps.” She eyed him critically. “But you’re all dressed up fancy now. You probably can’t…”
“I came prepared. Trent, have you got my tools?”
“Always.” Trent produced the familiar toolbox from the carriage.
Finn stripped off his formal coat, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work. His hands remembered the rhythm - measure, cut, fit, and secure. Mrs. Weatherby brought him tea and homemade cookies, sat on her porch, and told him all the village gossip he’d missed. Who was courting whom, whose roof needed repairs, how the harvest was looking, and all the other little bits and pieces of village life that Finn had once known intimately.
Trent joined him after the first hour, and they worked side by side the way they had a thousand times before. No titles, no protocol, just two friends fixing a fence.
