“You look a lot happier.” Trent hammered a nail home. “That smile is a damn sight better than the pinched lips you had going on when I had to come looking for you.”
“I feel like myself again.” Finn tested the board and found it solid. “I lost that somewhere along the way.”
“You letting them change you?”
“I was trying to do the changing.” Finn moved to the next section. “I thought I had to become someone else to fit. But that someone else isn’t me, and I can’t sustain it. I’ll always fail if I’m trying to be something I’m not.”
“So be yourself.”
“Darragh keeps saying that.”
“Darragh’s smart.” Trent grinned. “He married you, didn’t he?”
By the time they finished, the fence was solid, the gate latched properly, and the front steps were safe again. Mrs. Weatherby fed them lunch and made him promise to visit more often.
“You’re happy?” she asked quietly as they prepared to leave. “With him up at the castle? With the fancy life?”
Finn thought about Darragh’s laugh, his kindness, the way he’d held Finn through the worst of the stress. “Yes. I am. It’s been really hard, and I’ve made mistakes, but I’m happy.”
“Good. You deserve to be happy, Finn. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
The ride back to the castle felt lighter. Finn watched the countryside roll past, his hands tired in the best way, his mind clearer than it had been in months.
“Thank you,” he told Trent. “For staying. For reminding me who I am.”
“That’s what friends do.” Trent bumped his shoulder. “Though I expect you to return the favor when I inevitably do something stupid.”
When they arrived back at the castle, Darragh was waiting. He took one look at Finn - dusty, disheveled, grinning - and pulled him into a kiss that tasted like relief.
“Better?”
“Much better.” Finn leaned into him. “I’m ready to face the summit now.”
“As yourself?”
“As myself.”
/~/~/~/~/
The entertainment plans for the summit had been a point of contention. Helena wanted classical musicians, refined performances that would impress the delegates with Safe Harbor’s cultural sophistication. But sitting in the planning meeting, reviewing the proposed schedule, Finn realized they were doing what he’d been trying to do - be something they weren’t.
“What if we don’t?” he said, interrupting Helena mid-sentence.
She blinked. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t try to be refined and sophisticated. What if we showcase what Safe Harbor actually is?” Finn leaned forward. “Our strengths aren’t classical music and formal balls. It’s practical skill, shipbuilding, and harbor culture. Why are we hiding that?”
Aldric frowned. “Because other kingdoms view those things as provincial…”
“Let them.” Finn surprised himself with the force of his conviction. “We’re not going to change their minds bypretending to be like them. But we might earn their respect by being excellent at what we actually are.”
Darragh was grinning. “What did you have in mind?”
“Sea shanties from the harbor workers. They’re incredible - I’ve heard them, and they always stir the soul. We could have a demonstration of traditional boat-building techniques. Put our focus on local performers, to go with our local food and culture.” Finn met Helena’s skeptical gaze. “Safe Harbor’s identity is practical excellence. Let’s own it instead of apologizing for it.”
“Guests such as Princess Marielle will have a field day if she faces entertainment like that,” Jericho warned. “She’ll call it provincial and unsophisticated and probably write home about how Safe Harbor confirmed every stereotype.”
“Let her.” Finn shrugged. “If she can’t appreciate authentic culture, that’s her limitation, not ours.”
