Page 113 of Reap & Sow

She was warmed by his overbearing gruffness. “I thought you’d disapprove of it all as a fool’s errand.”

“It is a fool’s errand, and I do disapprove. But it seems the world’s no kinder to the well intentioned than the risk takers, so what do I know? If this is how we save Lawrie and get free of that damned Pact once and for all, so be it.”

Eda only nodded, staring into the fire. Rain pattered against the window.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said suddenly.

She blinked. “For what?”

“For the way I spoke to you, before the Blades came. For treating you like a child. For…I don’t know. Everything.”

“I should be the one apologizing. I got you and Lawrie into this mess. I’m the reason he’s—”

“No. You made mistakes, but you’re not responsible for what happened. That’s the bishop’s doing. If it weren’t for you, we’d both still be in that cell, waiting for the noose. I know which fate Lawrie would prefer.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry for never thanking you properly. You’re braver and better than I ever gave you credit for. So I won’t have you wallowing. Understand?”

Even while being affectionate he managed to sound bossy. Eda picked at her nails, unmoored by the gruff praise. “Okay.”

Silence fell again—a more comfortable sort. Ben was the one to break it. “You care about him. Kit.”

Was there any point in denying it? “Yes.”

“…How much?”

Please don’t make me say it. It hurt like an open wound. She couldn’t admit her feelings even to herself. “It doesn’t matter. If you mean to chastise me for being foolish, get it over with.”

“You were always slow to fear. Lawrie and I…we despised Mr. Night. But you were fascinated by him. So willing to see humanity where there was none.”

She bristled. “I take your point, Ben. You don’t need to—”

“You found a demon with a human heart after all.” His eyes gleamed like pennies in the firelight. “I see the way he looks at you.”

Eda’s face flushed hot, even as her chest echoed with cold pangs of misery. “What would you know of it?” she mumbled.

A long pause. “There’s a woman.”

Eda’s head snapped up. Ben’s cheeks were uncharacteristically pink. “A woman?”

“She’s a trainee in the Order’s mounted regiment. Still too junior to patrol. I see her practicing in the bailey and carrying equipment, but she’s often in the stables. Helps tack up the horses. She likes them. I catch her speaking to them sometimes when she thinks no one is listening.” He rubbed his neck.

Ben’s gruff, blunt voice had taken on a softness Eda rarely heard. Realization came like wind blowing away clouds. “Do you love her?”

“She hardly knows I exist.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, throwing her own deflection back at her. “I just mean to say that I do know something of the heart and its…longings. If you’re a fool, so am I.”

“You never told me about her.”

“What good would it have done?”

“I hear burdens feel lighter when shared.”

He said nothing. At times like this, Ben seemed much older than his years, weighed down by responsibilities to everyone but himself. Eda wanted to see the millstone lifted. She wanted him to find that girl in the Order and tell her how he felt. Maybe, if he was lucky, the girl would love him in return.

The fire popped. Ben prodded it needlessly. “Is he coming back this time?”

She didn’t need to ask who he meant. Eda closed her eyes so that he wouldn’t see them watering. “I don’t think so.”