Finn sighed softly.
“I’ll take that as a tortured yes.” Conrad turned the sword, and a splash of embers erupted from the charcoal.
Finn picked up a towel hanging near the water crate and wiped away the droplets of water from his hands. He had to admit it had been good to see Ari, but at the same time, it felt somewhat wrong. No matter how much he tried to convey the logic of the situation, she would have none of it. They were from two different worlds—she from a higher class, he from a lower one—and their gender roles added even more barriers. Surely, she understood. They were no longer children. “She invited us to the evening meal.”
Conrad’s grin grew to a full smile. “You know I love a good meal.” He cocked his head to the side and asked in a teasing tone, “But why would she invite a lowly blacksmith?”
Finn gritted his teeth. “You know as well as I do that nothing can happen between us.”
“Until she marries. Then you can be her lover.”
Finn tossed the towel at him.
Conrad caught it, laughing. “She certainly looked lovely.”
Finn’s mind wandered to her shapely body. He was in awe of the beautiful woman she had become. He knew he could never have her, and his heart ached with longing. He was captivated by her beauty and tormented by his impossible dream.
Conrad returned to the anvil and began pounding on the sword again. “Perchance, all she needs now is her friend.”
Finn nodded. He had thought of her a lot when she was gone for those two years. He knew being friends again would bring back the closeness they used to share, but it scared him to have his heart broken all over again. He was afraid of the hurt he would feel when she inevitably married someone else. It was better to shield his heart by keeping her at a distance.
Chapter Two
Ari walked up the spiral stairwayto her father’s solar. She passed numerous tapestries of men in plate armor fighting. She had changed her clothes in case she had gotten manure on her at Finn’s smithy and was dressed in a gown fit for a princess. After all, her father had sent her to her aunt’s castle to learn protocol and manners and responsibilities. Ugh. She knew all these; she just chose not to abide by them.
She inhaled a deep breath as she reached for the wooden door, her knuckles grazing the familiar surface. Yet this time, it felt different. Excitement had made her heart pound when she saw Finn, yet a twinge of hesitancy touched her at seeing her father again. She had expected enthusiasm for both reunions, but that wasn’t the case.
“Come,” a voice called.
Her father’s voice drifted into the hallway, sounding like distant thunder. She pushed open the door and entered the room. Her father was hunched over a piece of yellowed parchment on a scarred wooden table. He stared intently at the paper; his brows furrowed in frustration. “I told you to bring me last month’s—”
She swept in and embraced him from behind, kissing his thinning gray hair on top of his head. “You work too hard.”
He sat back, and when he gazed at her, his eyes crinkled with joy. “How I’ve missed you, angel.”
She grinned at the affectionate name. “I’ve missed you too.”
He pulled her before him and sighed heavily. He took a long, lingering look at her and smiled sadly. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. You remind me of your mother.”
Her mother had died shortly before he sent her to her Aunt Anna’s house for training to become a proper lady.
“I’m so happy you’re home.”
“What troubles you so, Father?” she asked, glancing at the parchment.
“It’s the tallies from the crops. Don’t worry about that.”
Ari cringed and bent over his shoulder, studying the parchment. “I’ve told you to have the steward help you with that. Jack is still the steward, isn’t he?” Her father had always been terrible with numbers and figures, frequently mixing them up and entering incorrect digits. Her mother used to manage the tallies before she became ill, so Ari had Jack help him before she left.
“He was trying to steal from us,” her father answered.
She rolled her eyes. Her father thought everyone examining the tallies was stealing from them.
“These are old figures, Father. From six months ago.”
“That’s when Jack left.”
“Father!” Ari cried in exasperation. “He was a good man and a perfect fit for you. He wasn’t stealing.” She pulled up a chair beside him. There was a lot of work to do. She leaned over the parchment, turning the pages in the book with a scowl on her face.
