Page 20 of Nanny for the Minotaur

Mira cheers as I laugh at them, leading him out to the garden where we typically stretch after the exercises.

"Here, watch this one." I guide Mira's arms up in a gentle stretch. "See how we reach like we're trying to touch the clouds?"

Theron settles into a chair, his massive frame making the sturdy furniture seem delicate. His merchant's coat lies forgotten on the bannister, vest half-unbuttoned. The morningsun catches the silver rings in his horns as he leans forward, amber eyes intent on every movement.

"Now we're going to be trees in the wind." I demonstrate the side-to-side motion that helps strengthen Mira's core. "Remember to breathe like we practiced."

"In through my nose, out through my mouth." Mira's silver-white fur gleams as she sways. "Like the wind in the branches."

"That's my clever girl." My praise makes her beam.

"The breathing helps when my chest gets tight, Papa." Mira turns to her father. "Lyra says it's like giving my heart a gentle hug from the inside."

Theron's throat works. "Does it now?"

I guide Mira through another stretch. "The key is making it fun. All these movements help build strength, but she just thinks we're playing."

"And the herbs you've been giving her?"

"Mixed into her morning tea. Speaking of which-" I reach into one of my dress pockets, pulling out a small wrapped bundle. "I've prepared a fresh batch."

His large fingers brush mine as he takes the package, sending an unexpected warmth up my arm. "You've done more for her in these two months than all the healers before."

"It's not just me. Mira works hard." I catch his eye. "She wants to make you proud."

Something shifts in his expression - a softening around his eyes, a gentleness I wouldn't have thought possible in such an imposing figure. He watches as Mira demonstrates her favorite "wing" stretch, her giggles filling the sun-warmed room.

"Papa, you try!"

"I don't think-"

"Please?" Mira's amber eyes, so like her father's, go wide with hope.

To my amazement, Theron rises and mimics the movement, his massive frame following his daughter's lead. The sight of this powerful minotaur merchant doing delicate arm circles brings a smile I can't suppress.

Fuck, that is doing something to my heart I can't take.

Mrs. Bramble appears at the door to the garden, interrupting our morning routine as she shouts for Theron. He grins, and ushers me and Mira to follow him. Two minotaur craftsmen lumber in, carrying what looks like furniture wrapped in thick canvas.

"Your commission, Mr. Blackhorn." The shorter of the two - though still towering over me - sets down his burden with surprising grace.

Theron's ears perk forward. "Ah, yes. Perfect timing." He turns to Mira. "Close your eyes, little one."

She obeys, bouncing on her toes. The craftsmen make quick work of the wrapping, revealing an exquisite child-sized desk and chair. The wood gleams golden in the morning light, its surface carved with delicate leaf patterns. The chair looks sturdy but lightweight - perfect for Mira's small frame.

"Open them now."

Mira's gasp echoes through the hall. "Is it really mine?"

"All yours." Theron's voice rumbles with pleasure. "So you can sit and draw like your brother." Something I imagine was difficult for her to do before when her father was worried about her collapsing.

I watch as father and daughter arrange the desk near the window. Theron's massive hands dwarf the art supplies he unpacks - crisp sheets of paper, colorful inks, delicate brushes. Each item is placed with deliberate care, his movements gentle despite his size. Mira directs him with all the authority of a ship's captain, her silver-white fur practically glowing with excitement.

"The light's better over here, Papa." She tugs his sleeve until he shifts the desk slightly left. "Lyra says morning sun is best for working."

"Does she now?" His amber eyes meet mine, something warm in their depths.

Mira wastes no time claiming her new seat, already reaching for the inks. "I'm going to draw our family first!"

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