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"Ihaven't."
I hear the snappish tone of my voice and wince. I sound like a petulant child. With a very deep voice.
"Sure, sure. The splintering of your bed frame tells a different story. Go and talk to her, boss. She's yourwife."
She's so much more than that, but how can I explain that to Kyran? And if she’s so much more, doesn't she deserve to have her say?
Slowly, I nod my head.
"Good," Kyran says. "And go easy on the paneling. It's imported."
I grin, sheepishly. Ithasbeen awhile since I've torn a hole in the wall.
On the way out, I reach for the dents in the wall left by my fist. Using the spines on the back of my hand, I carefully etch my initials.
"There, now it's art. Tell Carter he can put away the plaster and paint."
My jovial mooddoesn't last long. The gravity of what I'm doing hits me.
Am I crazy?
How can I ever trust her?
Liam, the youngling, distracts me from my thoughts. He runs down the hall, screeching in terror. I don't worry about it. It's the kind of terror children have. Play terror.
But as he nears me, his eyes widen and he slows down suddenly.
"Er-sorry," he mumbles.
"Go on."
I step aside. Now that he has permission, his wide eyes glance back. Down the hall, Ava and Tress wait. Their little faces peek around the corner. Wooden weapons fill their little hands. One on one, Liam would have the advantage. But two on one and unarmed? A dangerous game, indeed.
Liam catches one glimpse of them and runs again. The girls spill out around the corner, practically running over each other in their rush. They race after him, spears lifted for battle. Their sharp teeth glint feral in the sunlight.
The spears look sharp, too.
The girls pay me no heed as they run by. I might as well not be here at all.
The spears look sharp, too.I silently wish Liam good luck.
It's difficult for our kind to have children, unless we're blessed by the mountain god. He's already put his mark on Lily. She's to be one of the blessed. A mother among our clan.
I hate to think of it now.
How do I choose between the love I was promised, thechildwe were promised by the mountain god, and the lives of everyone under this roof?
Liam, Ava, Tress? Ren? Carter? Even our soldiers, like Soren and Kyren. If the law took me, just as my father's life is ending, what would become of all of them? My heart aches to think of it.
The walk to the garden feels longer today. I pass Ren, dusting the books in the study and give her a nod. Carter glares malevolently as he stalks past, an apron covering his fine clothes.
A tin of plaster and a can of paint fill his arms, as well as trowel and brush.
"You don't have to worry," I call after him. "I signed it."
He glares harder, if such a thing is possible.
In the garden, Gabrielle kneels by a flowerbed that smells of fresh manure and new blooms. Even in the winter, her garden blooms endlessly. She’s never revealed her trick, and perhaps she never will. But the result is beautiful.
