Page 124 of Sunder

“I do,” Athan affirmed, one hand behind her head, the other coming to cup her cheek. “But I think they can keep.”

She’d talk of Lucian later. Remind him there was family they might visit that was kinder. Did not hold to the same traditions as the rest.

But for now, she hummed.

Smiled.

And this time, her lips met his.

And if she paid for it in the morning, so be it.

For now... they would have this.

???

“We should stop somewhere,” Orma fretted, wringing her hands and pacing the kitchen floor. “Where does one buy food? Not ingredients. I know where those come from. But prepared things. How often is market day? Should we try there?”

Another lap. Brum raised his head and gave her a look, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop, even for him. Back and forth. She made to give another peek at the oven, but Athan halted her with a word.

“You let the heat out every time you do that,” he chided, with far more patience than she deserved. “And what does a pie need to bake?”

Orma’s throat tightened, giving the stove a worried look. “Heat and time,” she repeated.

First she’d watched.

Then, when she could name all the ingredients herself and their measures, she was allowed to practise, with Athan there to give advice over every step.

Then, was to do it herself. Without him there to stand over her. To point and correct when she went wrong.

Because she needed to build her confidence, not only her skills.

Which didn’t mean it had to be today. But Athan had suggested it. And talked a great deal about family and how proud he was of her and all she was learning, and that really wasn’t fair.

It was just a supper.

Well. It was. And it wasn’t.

It was supper at Lucian’s house. Because they were kin, and she owed him a great deal, and it had been too long since they’d visited.

Firen hadn’t met Athan at all. Which wasn’t fair, and weighed on Orma enough that Athan had pulled her into his lap and insisted he wished to meet more of her family.

She thought of her sister. Her brother. Of subjecting him to more judgement, and she couldn’t bear it. It would come later, she knew. But for now, she wanted something pleasant. Something nice.

Perfect, even.

Where she might offer him the family he lacked.

They could be the outsiders. The annex on a long and lauded family tree.

So there was pie. Made by her. Silently observed by her mate just in case she poison the lot of them.

They weren’t late, but she kept checking the sundial as if they were.

Or maybe it was to keep from opening the stove and checking on the pie. Which had been bubbling when last she checked, and it had been good she looked at it because the crust was browning too quickly and...

“Perhaps we ought to bring Brum,” Athan mused, and she glanced in his direction, horrified at the suggestion. He might be a fixture in their home, but that did not mean every house could accommodate him. Most especially since Firen and Lucian lived in lodgings provided by the Hall, and surely they had rules about half-wild beasts within their dwellings. Athan was leaning down in his chair, Brum sitting in front of him as he received rubs about his neck.

Her mouth opened, full of reasons the idea was preposterous, only to feel the flood of humour about the edges of the bond. “You jest,” Orma observed dryly, fighting down the urge to check. Again.

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