Page 24 of Nanny for the Minotaur

Kai sits cross-legged on a nearby bench, his practice slate balanced on his knees. His black fur ruffles in the breeze as he scratches out letters with intense focus, tongue caught between his teeth. Every few minutes, his blue eyes dart up to check on his sister.

"Look how high I can reach!" Mira stretches her arms skyward, her amber eyes bright with pride.

"You're getting stronger every day." I adjust her stance slightly. The garden fills with birdsong and the gentle rustle of leaves.

Mira moves to her next exercise, taking careful steps along the garden path. Her hooves click against the stone as shepractices her balance. A loose paving stone shifts beneath her weight. She stumbles, pitching forward onto her knees.

"Mama!" The cry bursts from her as she scrambles up and throws herself into my arms. Her small body trembles against mine.

The garden stills. Even the morning breeze seems to hold its breath. Kai's slate clatters to the ground, his eyes wide with shock. My heart pounds as I hold Mira close, feeling her tears dampen my dress. The weight of that single word hangs in the air between us.

I meet Kai's gaze over his sister's head. His young face carries an old pain, and I see his fingers clench around his fallen slate. The silence stretches, broken only by Mira's sniffles as I check her scraped knee.

My hands tremble slightly as I clean Mira's scraped knee with the herb-infused cloth from my pocket. The familiar motions ground me - dab away dirt, check for deeper cuts, apply healing salve. But my mind whirls with the echo of that word.Mama.

Through the garden archway, Theron's massive frame fills the doorway. His amber eyes lock with mine, intense and unblinking. The silver rings in his horns catch the morning light as he grips the doorframe, wood creaking under his strength.

Mrs. Bramble appears at his elbow, her neat bun slightly askew. Her weathered hands twist her apron as she watches the scene unfold. The worry lines around her eyes deepen.

"There we go, all clean." I wrap a small bandage around Mira's knee, trying to steady my voice. She clings to my dress, her silver-white fur soft against my hands. "You were very brave."

Kai slides off his bench, approaching with careful steps. His lanky frame seems to fold in on itself, making him appear smaller than his already young age. Those blue eyes - so different from his father's - search my face.

"Can we..." He swallows hard, glancing between his father and me. "Can we call you that?"

The question hits like a physical blow. Mornings of stretches, nights filled with bedtime stories, wiped tears, and shared laughter crystallize in this moment. I pull him close with my free arm, feeling his slight tremors match my own.

"I..." My throat tightens around the words. Theron's presence looms larger, though he hasn't moved from the doorway. His expression remains carefully neutral, but his tail lashes once, betraying his tension.

Mrs. Bramble's hands still on her apron as she holds her breath, waiting for my answer. The whole garden seems suspended, even the morning breeze dying away as if listening.

"You can call me whatever you like." I pull them both into me. "Let's go eat, hmm?"

Both the children jump up at that, and I follow them inside to the table. Theron catches my eye as I walk in, surprising me by joining us.

I settle into my usual seat at the dining table, the familiar warmth of polished wood beneath my hands doing little to calm my nerves. The sun streams through tall windows, catching the silver rings in Theron's horns as he cuts Mira's meat into tiny pieces. His movements are precise, methodical, but I notice the slight tremor in his massive hands.

"And then the thalivern landed right on my nose!" Mira waves her fork, her silver-white fur glowing in the sunlight. "It had purple wings, just like my dress!"

"Careful with your fork, little one." I reach over to steady her hand. Our fingers brush, and she beams at me with such pure joy that my chest aches.

Kai pushes his vegetables around his plate, his black fur a stark contrast against the crisp white tablecloth. His blue eyes dart between his father and me, weighing each gesture, eachsilence. He has his father's way of reading a room, sensing the currents of unspoken words.

Theron's amber gaze finds mine across the table. Something raw and uncertain flickers there before he looks away, focusing intently on cutting his own meal. His tail twitches against his chair - a tell I've learned means he's wrestling with emotions he'd rather not show.

"Papa, may I have more bread?" Mira's voice breaks through the tension.

Theron reaches for the basket, his massive frame making the dining chair creak. "Here, little heart." His deep voice is softer than usual.

I catch him watching me again as I help Mira spread butter on her bread. His expression reminds me of that first day in his study - vulnerable despite his imposing size, afraid to hope. The wordMamaechoes in my mind, making my hands tremble slightly as I set down the butter knife.

Mrs. Bramble moves around us like a silent shadow, refilling water glasses and adjusting plates. Her knowing eyes miss nothing as she pauses behind Theron's chair, one weathered hand resting briefly on his shoulder before she continues her rounds.

The rest of the day feels stilted until I get the children in bed. Needing a second to breathe, to think over everything that has happened, I head outside.

The moon hangs heavy in the night sky as I slip through the garden gate. My bare feet brush against the cool grass, each step carrying me deeper into the sanctuary where everything changed. Here, among the climbing roses and herb beds, I first saw past Theron's gruff exterior to the tender heart beneath.

Our roses reach toward the stars, their blooms unfurling in shades of crimson and blush. I trace a velvet petal, remembering how his massive hands looked so gentle as he helped me plantthese very bushes. The night air fills with their sweet perfume, mixing with the herbs I've braided into my copper hair.

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