Page 37 of The Sun He Buried

The purple cloak is hanging beside my bed. I’ve tried it on twice since the market.

The hood is excellent.

The pockets are even better.

Asta found the stuffed unicorn in one of them this morning and accused me of packing emotionally.

I stand by my decision.

Baldr sends the recruits to collect their arrows. They scatter across the yard. Runa crawls beneath the target for reasons nobody understands.

He comes to me with a cup of water in one hand.

His chest is still bare.

This remains unnecessary.

“You’re staring.”

“You gave me your shirt.”

“For safekeeping.”

“Then I’m keeping an eye on the person who belongs inside it.”

Baldr drinks. Water touches his lower lip.

He takes his time swallowing.

Terrible man.

“How am I doing?”

I inspect him because he asked. “Very safe.”

“The shirt.”

“Oh.” I lift one side. “Also safe.”

He sets the cup on the wall and steps between my knees.

I stop holding the shirt up.

“Thank you for coming.”

“You promised entertainment.”

“I gave you eleven children with weapons.”

“And no shield.”

“I stood between you and the arrows.”

I point at the one still resting in the dirt. “You missed that one.”

“It wasn’t close.”

“I made a sound.”