Page 216 of The Sun He Buried

Baldr sees him look.

I’m the only person at the table who took days to understand what they were doing.

Baldr’s fingers move beneath my hair.

He draws me against his side.

“We leave when the ridge opens,” he says.

Eirik puts the folded map into Ketill’s hands.

“Take whoever you require for the seals.”

Ketill doesn’t take it.

Eirik lets go anyway.

The map lands on the table.

I look up at Baldr.

He’s watching his brother.

Not me.

His hand rubs once across my shoulder.

Warm.

Familiar.

Wrong.

Baldr isn’t holding me.

He’s holding me up.

A purple cloak in a market. A hand beneath a table. A woman brought down from his brother’s rooms in one boot.

A flag.

I’m the flag.

My throat closes.

Baldr looks down at last.

His amber eye softens. His pale-green eye does not.

“What?”

I shake my head.

Coward.

In my own voice.

I could step away. I could tell him his hands haven’t been about me for days. I could say I know he’s hurting, and this makes it worse.