Page 51 of Sharpen Your Claws

“Well, what is it?” she asked.

“There is potential news concerning my missing patients that requires my attention. However, it will take me to the countryside,” he replied hesitantly.

Matilda’s hands halted in their work.

“The king has kindly brought in another doctor to oversee the clinic while I take a short time to travel.” He hated lying to her, but telling her he’s going to Faerie wasn’t an option. She may tie herself to him and force him to take her.

“A short time?” Her breathing turned ragged. “How short?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Her ripping of the weeds became frantic. “Then it may not be short. How long will you be gone?”

“It’s for work. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

“You don’t know that.” She grabbed the weed bucket and lunged to her feet. Her heels clicked against the stone path. “What if you’re gone for a year or more? What if there’s trouble, if it’s dangerous? You just got home!”

“I have been home for two years.”

“And they took you for five!” Matilda’s back went rigid, then she spun on him. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Ask someone else to go. You have plenty of work here.”

“Mama,” he whispered.

“You can’t go. I won’t allow it. Absolutely not.” She stormed toward the house, past Robert, standing in the doorway. He overheard and looked after his wife, but wouldn’t look his son in the eye. His body swayed between following Matilda or approaching William. Then he sighed.

“Must you go?” Robert asked.

William thought of Nicholas, how he so easily noticed Robert refusing to look at him. An itch formed beneath his skin. He scratched, gloves creaking from the frantic movements of his fingers.

“Yes, it’s important,” he replied through clenched teeth.

Robert wanted to argue. William always noticed that now, the slight tension in his father’s shoulders when someone said something he didn’t agree with. He wished Robert would say something, if only to encourage himself to look at William and truly see him.

“Then I shall speak to her,” he said, leaving William disappointed. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered.

“Have you told your brothers and Alice? She will be distraught if you leave without saying goodbye.”

“I think it’s best that I don’t.” He worried they would talk him out of it, or see through his lies. At least this way, Alice would learn through her parents and he wouldn’t break under the pressure of her tears.

Robert frowned. “Well, we should spend today together, then. It will ease your mother.”

“Will it ease you?” He hadn’t meant to ask that, nor do so with such bite.

“Nothing will make your leaving any easier, especially when we aren’t sure how long you will be gone.”

His hands clenched, irritated by the admission that he couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. How could he believe his father wouldn’t be relieved by his absence when, for two years, Robert wouldn’t look at him? He felt like a plague in his own home, gliding through the halls to erode whatever he touched.

“Are you certain my departure won’t relieve you a little?” he asked, jaw tight enough to make his teeth ache.

“Why would you ask something like that?” Robert frowned, but that was it. William’s blood boiled. He wasn’t angry, only hurt.

“How could I not?” He approached, so Robert no doubt saw him from the corner of his eye. The man remained perfectly still, facing away from a son who craved his attention enough that he felt mad. “Look at me!” he screamed, voice breaking.

Robert finally did, but his expression broke instantly. His eyes darkened, swelling with tears that didn’t shed. His hand shook atop his cane and William’s heart broke and screamed and cried, wondering why his father couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“Have I done wrong? Ever since I returned, you cannot bear to look at me. Have I disappointed you?” he whimpered.

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