Page 144 of The Sun He Buried

“Do you want it to be?”

His fingers stop again.

Baldr looks at the ceiling. “You’ve become difficult since meeting him.”

“I was difficult before.”

“True.”

I put my chin on his chest. “Do you?”

His amber eye closes. The pale-green one stays on me.

“Yes.”

There.

No pride. Just a man who misses his brother, and has missed him longer than my whole family has been alive.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Telling me.”

Baldr kisses the top of my head. “You wanted my history.”

“I do.”

“Even the broken nose.”

“Especially that.”

“Cruel woman.”

The storm keeps pushing at the shutters.

Snowpetal scratches once at the door.

I sit up.

Baldr catches my waist before I can step into the blanket and carries me across the room.

“I had that.”

“Completely.”

He opens the door.

Snowpetal comes in covered in hay, snow, and one short piece of rope. She drops the rope on the floor, jumps onto the bed, and curls in my warm place.

The guard listened for biting.

“Aww. She missed us.”

“She stole your side.”

“Affection can be complicated.”