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Emilia
Emilia braced herself before tapping on his door. She knew he was the kind of person who liked to concentrate, and he wouldn’t appreciate an interruption.
But this project was important, especially for Dyrk. He had been out of sorts this morning, and the only enthusiasm she had seen from him all day was when they talked about the garden. She needed his father’s help.
“Enter,” Ra’as’s voice called out.
Something about the deep sound of it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.
Keep it together, Emilia. Think of tenet forty-nine. Be professional.
She stepped into an enormous space, so light and sunny and cheerful she was shocked. Compared with the rest of the house, Ra’as’s office felt almost out of place.
“Something wrong?” Ra’as asked.
He was standing at his drafting table, sunlight playing up the golden highlights in his hair. He would have looked like a painting of one of the sun gods, if not for his ears, which were pricked up in a classic Kotenka display of interest.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your workday,” she said, slipping inside. “I wanted to talk to you about a project for the children.”
Though he had apologized for his reaction to her baking session with the kids, she found that she was still a little worried about bringing up the garden.
“Please, come in,” he said. His voice was gentler now, as if he knew she was nervous.
“Did you know that Dyrk has been caring for an azulaflower that belonged to his mother?” she asked.
“So that’s where it went,” Ra’as said with a smile. “I didn’t know that, no.”
“It’s a very difficult plant to care for indoors,” Emilia went on, feeling more confident. “I’m proud of him for being able to keep it alive for so long. And he didn’t even know that azulaflowers can bear fruit.”
“I didn’t know that either,” Ra’as said, frowning.
“They have to be outside for that though,” she told him. “If we plant it among other flowers, it has a chance to be pollinated.”
“Incredible,” Ra’as said.
“We would like to plant it outside,” she told him.
“Of course,” he said.
“And we also want to start a garden,” she said. “There’s an unused area right outside Dyrk’s bedroom. It won’t be visible from the front or back of the house. But I think it would be good for the kids to get outside and grow something…”
She’d had more planned out to say, but she trailed off.
He was gazing at her so intently, his pale blue eyes burning as if he wanted to see her soul.
“Thank you,” he said at last. “Thank you for doing projects with the kids. It’s so good for them to have something positive to engage with. I haven’t seen them this happy in a long time.”
His voice was low and strangely vulnerable.
It was sad to think that he hadn’t seen his kids happy, and that he had to thank a nanny for spending time with them, when he could be doing activities with them himself.
“I’m glad they’re having fun with me,” she said honestly. “They’re amazing children.”
“Thank you,” he told her.
She didn’t want to tell him how unhappy Dyrk seemed to be this morning, and in general. Dyrk was his son. Surely, he knew that much already.
“I worry about Dyrk,” she told him, unable to help herself. “He seems unhappy, and maybe a little isolated.”
