Page 49 of Changelings
Balar grunted as he heaved dirt over his shoulder. He was getting ahead of himself again. He was no closer to being taken into her heart, let alone her home and bed. One night of his company, a few moments of his tongue and hands, were enough to get him banished.
Another wet clump of dirt went sailing over his shoulder somewhere—he didn’t care where. It was a latrine pit, it didn’t have to be pretty.
Of course, when he dug Imogen a new garden, he would make it pretty. And neat. He knew she preferred the orderly over the aesthetic, but he was determined to give her both. She deserved nice things, soft things, beautiful things. Gifts, favors, attentions, she deserved them all, things that showed her just how much she was adored and valued.
This was the second day of his banishment; she hadn’t said exactly how many in total he had to stay away. He figured anything more than three would surely be cruel, and while she could be tetchy, Imogen wasn’t cruel.
It gave him time to wing down to Granach tomorrow, then. To find something for her. Surely he improved his chances if he came bearing a gift. A fine wool blanket, perhaps? One large enough to wrap both of them up in for long, cozy nights in front of the fire. Perhaps a new nightgown? One trimmed in pretty lace that was almost transparent, that he’d enjoy peeling away from her soft skin. Or even perhaps a bottle of sweet wine for them to enjoy together? He could just imagine her gigglinglaughter after a cup or two.
Perhaps all of it. Why not hedge his bets.
Balar drove his shovel into the ground and leaned against it, frowning hard at the dirt. Was this a good plan? He’d have thought so a few days ago, but everything was different now. He knew his Imogen’s affections weren’t something he could buy—would that he could—but surely she deserved gifts? Courting included gifts, and he’d been lacking in preparing any.
“I can hear you scheming,” said Soren from the other side of the pit. Looking up, he pinned Balar with an assessing squint. “Whatever it is, don’t.”
“You don’t know anything,” Balar grumbled.
“I know it’s a bad idea, whatever it is.” Pulling his feet out of the mud, Soren managed to get close enough to clap Balar’s shoulder. “Give her the time she asked for,seska.”
Balar narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t explained what’d happened in so many words. But then, could he truly be surprised? No one in this world knew him better than Soren.
I want Imogen to know me as well. And I want to know her.
He wanted that something fierce.
But…showing up with armfuls of gifts…
Too much!
That’s what she’d said as she pushed him away. Too much. It wasn’t nearly enough for Balar, but that wasn’t the point, was it? Imogen had told him what she needed, even in halting words. Time.
The very thing Balar had the most trouble giving.
Huffing and grumbling, Balar shook out his mane.
“You’re insufferable when you’re right,” he groused.
Soren grinned, a rare sight. “I’m sure it’s painful for you,seska. But you only have to bear it a little longer. And just think, yourkigaralikely longs for you, too.”
Balar grunted. “Nowthatis an audacious hope.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I’ve seen how she looks at you, Balar. She’s guarded with everyone, but with you…” Soren shrugged. “She likes you.”
A reluctant smile twitched at his lips. That was heartening to hear. Perhaps not all hope was lost, then.
Soren clapped Balar’s shoulder again. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
He certainly hoped so. Would that this was just a little added drama in the story they’d tell their many cubs years from now, about their courting days.
“Thank you,seska. You give me hope.”
Soren nodded before struggling back over to where he’d been working. Balar’s attention followed him.
Soren really was the good sort. Although he’d never expressed a desire for one, Balar hoped it was Soren who found hiskigaranext.
“She has a sister, you know,” said Balar.
Soren snorted. “Amarriedsister.”
