“I do,” he said, before he could think better of it. “I grew up there.”
She blinked in surprise. “You did? So you’re going home then?”
Home. The word struck him harder than he expected.
“Hardly,” he replied, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It hasnae been my home for a long time.”
Ruby lowered the knife. “But if you grew up there don’t you have family in the city you would like to see?”
He cursed inwardly. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to give her that thread to tug on.
“Aye, I have family in the city,” he admitted. “But none that I wish to see.”
She met his gaze and her eyes were soft with understanding. “I see. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Dinna be. It’s in the past. I didnae fit. Not with them. Not with the life they wanted for me.”
There he went again—revealing more of himself than he wanted to. He let out a slow breath and met her eyes. The fire crackled nearby. The night wind tugged at his hair. And in that moment, the world felt strangely small—just the two of them and the darkness all around.
He shook himself and raised his knife. “Again,” he said nodding at her stance.
She rolled her eyes—but lifted the blade—and they set to sparring.
