Page 83 of The King is Dead
“I hope you’ll think about all the ways I’ve shown you that I can be trusted, and I mean what I say. And remember this: I thought I was protecting you, not harming you, Gall. I mean that. I got it wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. I regret it. I wish I could change it, but I can’t.”
His eyes dropped to the grass and he frowned, but he nodded slowly.
“You told me never to hide things,” he said firmly. “You said it only caused danger.”
“I know, but thereisa difference between parents and children—”
“You always say strength doesn’t make excuses.”
God, he was using my words against me. Effectively. I breathed through the flash of pride that wanted to insist I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but I made myself swallow it back.
“I underestimated you, Gall. That was my mistake. I was trying to protect you, not deceive you. My motives were good, but I made the wrong choice.”
Gall nodded like I’d answered a question correctly. “That’s what Harris said too.”
I wasn’t sure if I was grateful for Harris’s understanding, or wanted her to get the fuck out of my son’s head. I swallowed that back too. “I like Harris,” I said instead. Because it was true.
“Me too. She doesn’t treat me like I’m stupid.”
“Because you aren’t.”
Gall gave me a look then and even though I knew it meant he’d grown a little, come to understand a nuance that perhaps had been beyond him before, the edge of cynicism in that gaze made me grieve my innocent son.
“She also doesn’t hide things from me,” he pointed out darkly.
God, this was hard. “I know I hurt you and I’ve learned from it. I don’t want to be apart from you, so… Tell me, Gall, how can I help you feel better?”
Gall frowned, but then as he opened his mouth to answer, a thin, plaintive voice rose from behind the trees, somewhere up the trail and I saw something in Gall that I’d never seen before. His expression widened, but not in fear. It was the jolt of a protective heart being reminded of it’s charge. He whirled immediately, his hand grasping for a weapon, though there wasn’t one at his waist. And before I could ask, he darted back down the trail, his steps scuffing on the dirt and leaves.
There was a pause, then a hushed, whispered conversation that warmed and chilled my heart in the same breath.
“You shouldn’t be out here.”
“I was worried about you! Harris said your Papa came.”
“I can take care of myself. Especially with him. He wouldn’t hurt me. Not like that.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry, Iz, I’m well. And look! I’m a warrior now!” His proud tone made my chest constrict, but I took it that Istral was not as excited about this development as he was, because her whispers grew tenser and more urgent.
“Does that mean you have to gofight?!”
“No, no. At least… I don’t think… I told you, Iz, I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
I blinked at the fierce conviction in Gall’s whisper, my breath stopped. Were these two—?
“But what if he makes you?” she sounded on the verge of tears.
“He won’t. I won’t let him.”
“But you said he’s in charge.”
“He is… he was… but I don’t know now. Anyway, I’m not leaving.” I recognized the hint of tension in Gall’s tone—he spoke what he hoped for, not what he was certain of.
“I’m scared when I can’t see you.” Her voice was so small evenIfelt protective of her. Which explained the deep, ragged ferocity in Gall’s when he answered.
“I’m here. And I’m not leaving you.”
