Page 106 of Bound

Her eyes burned, and his arm came about her, squeezing tightly. “We don’t have to,” he reminded her. “Whatever you want.”

As if she got to choose. As if what she wanted counted toward anything when what mattered most to her was to keep those she loved close. To not be left behind.

She pulled away from him. Pushed at the latch as if it was hers to open.

Wren didn’t go in. Just lingered at the doorway, to a home that wasn’t hers. There was no kitchen waiting just beyond the threshold. No loft plainly within view. There was a hallway and doorways and an open cavity that went straight upward to a floor above.

No need for stairs, here. Not for these residents.

Da waited with her. Squeezed her shoulder and let her absorb it into her mind and memory. She might have spent market days here, if Mama had allowed it. Got to know siblings younger than her, where they would have been friends and family rather than strangers. Had they come to her stall, curious about the half-sister they’d never known? Likely never wanted.

“Don’t cry, Wren,” Da urged, pulling her close so her face was in his chest rather than taking in more of the empty hall. “There’s no need to cry.”

Wasn’t there?

She was a woman grown. That was supposed to mean something. That childhood hurts shouldn’t hold so much sway, that tears shouldn’t come so easily and so fiercely.

But they did.

“Come inside,” Da urged. “I’ll make you something. We can sit awhile and it won’t feel so strange any longer.”

He tried to walk her in, but she resisted, warring with herself. How did one know when to be stubborn? To hold tightly to old ways. When to let them go.

It felt like a surrender. To a battle she’d waged since she was a fledgling. And if she lost, if she went inside, it said that it was all right. That his leaving was acceptable. That she was fine with him moving away and having another family, without her.

He was beyond the threshold, waiting. Watching.

Looking already resigned that she would turn and run. Would not allow him to welcome his daughter into his true home. To sit with her a while.

She rubbed at her face. Her eyes. Tugged at her hair.

Then took a deep breath.

Maybe she got to decide what it meant. Maybe it could just... be.

She took a step inward, and allowed her father’s smile to warm her chilly heart, and when he shut the door behind her, it did not feel as ominous as she feared it might.

???

It was later than she usually walked home. The suns were not yet setting, but it would be a near thing to dark by the time she made it back.

Da offered to fly her home, but she refused, most especially as he cast an anxious look out the window. She did not ask where his family was and how long he’d managed to arrange for them to keep away from the house, but she doubted any of them would be pleased to be denied his company for supper on her account.

Besides, Braum was there. At the city gate, waiting for her.

She almost apologised for being so late, but didn’t. He wanted to wait for her. Wanted to walk with her.

Which made the lateness not so frightening. As the shade of the trees grew long and dark. The winds picking up and making her stop to pull out her wrap.

“You all right?” Braum asked, not for the first time. There was an anxiousness about him, new and unfamiliar.

“Yes. Are you?”

He huffed out a breath and watched her fiddle with her wrap and the pack straps until she was all tangled.

She wasn’t surprised when he stepped in to help. Tugging and pulling this way and that until all was set to rights. When had such things grown comfortable? Such attentions would have horrified her, before. Too familiar, and too close. Presumptuous, even.

She couldn’t remember when things had changed, yet they had.