Page 16 of Nanny for the Minotaur

It takes a little more convincing, but soon, I've got Kai tucked in my bed with me curled into the armchair next to him. He sleeps fitfully, and I spend most of the time thinking in my journal of how to make him more comfortable in the house.

The next morning after breakfast, we tackle Kai's room like a well-coordinated team. The windows protest with years of disuse, but Theron's strength makes quick work of the stubborn latches. Fresh air rushes in, carrying away the lingering smoke and stuffiness that had permeated the space.

I gather the smoke-damaged curtains, which were too heavy and dark for this room anyway. Mira sorts through her brother's toys with surprising organization, creating neat piles of "keep" and "maybe" while humming to herself. Her silver-white fur catches the afternoon light, making her look almost ethereal.

"These tapestries are ridiculous," Theron mutters, yanking at an elaborate hunting scene. "Who puts scenes of bloodsport in a child's room?"

"Someone more concerned with appearances than comfort." The words slip out before I can stop them.

His amber eyes meet mine, understanding passing between us. "Help me with this one?"

We work in tandem, his height and my dexterity making short work of the heavy fabric. As we reach for the same curtain tie, our hands brush. His fur is surprisingly soft against my skin, and neither of us pulls away. Heat blooms where we touch, spreading up my arm and across my chest. Time seems to stretch, marked only by our breathing and Mira's quiet humming in the background.

As I pull away, my hand tingles with phantom warmth where his fur brushed against it. Instantly, I miss his proximity, the way his massive frame made me feel simultaneously safe and breathless.

But I shake that off as I go to get herbs to help with any lingering smoke smell. I pause in the doorway, watching how Theron studies the walls with an intensity usually reserved for trade contracts.

"We should redo the whole house." He turns at my footsteps, his massive frame blocking the sunlight. "Not just Kai's room. Make it less..." He gestures at the formal decor.

"Less like a museum and more like a home?"

"Exactly." His amber eyes light up. "The children should be able to run without worrying about breaking some priceless vase."

As if summoned, Mira races in, her silver-white fur glowing in the morning light. "Can I pick my room color too?"

"Of course, little one." Theron scoops her up with one arm, making her giggle. "What color would you like?"

"Yellow! Like sunshine!"

Mrs. Bramble appears in the doorway, arms laden with cleaning supplies. "I heard talk of redecorating." Her eyes twinkle as she sets down her burden. "About time, if you ask me. This house needs more life in it."

We split into teams, evaluating each room. Somehow Theron keeps ending up wherever I am, his broad shoulders fillingdoorways as I measure windows for new curtains. He reaches above me to pull down dusty decorations, his chest brushing my back. Each time, my breath catches.

"Lunch!" Mrs. Bramble's voice echoes through the halls. She's set up an impromptu picnic in Kai's half-finished room, complete with sandwiches and fresh lemonade.

Kai sprawls on the floor, carefully arranging his toy soldiers in formation. "Can we put up my drawings instead of the tapestries?"

"An excellent idea." I help Mira wipe juice from her chin. "Your art should be the first thing people see."

By sunset, Kai's room has transformed. Gone are the heavy curtains and formal furniture, replaced by bright blue walls and shelves displaying his treasured collections. His drawings create a colorful border near the ceiling, and his bed sports new covers decorated with stars. Even his toy chest has been repainted, though Theron's attempt at artistic clouds looks more like wool tufts.

"It feels different." Kai touches the walls wonderingly. "Like it's really mine now."

"That's because it is." Theron rests his hand on his son's shoulder, pride evident in his stance. Mira has fallen asleep in his arms.

I step back to admire our work, only to bump into Theron's solid chest. His hands steady me, lingering longer than necessary on my waist. The warmth of his touch seeps through my dress, making it hard to focus on anything else.

"Do you think…" Kai looks to me. "Do you think I won't have nightmares anymore?"

It hurts my heart, and I think we need to talk. "Let's have some tea before bed."

Kai goes with me to the kitchen while Theron lays Mira down before joining us. Steam curls from our mugs as I stir honeyinto the tea, the spoon clinking softly against ceramic. Warm lamplight softens the edges of worry on everyone's faces. Kai sits between Theron and me at the worn wooden table, his small hands wrapped around his cup.

"Kai, why don't you tell us what it is you are having nightmares about?" I lean forward, drawing soothing circles on his back.

"I keep seeing her." Kai's voice barely rises above a whisper. "Mother. She's standing in my doorway, looking at me like..." He swallows hard. "Like I'm not enough. Never enough."

Theron shifts in his chair. "Son, they're just dreams-"

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