Chapter 194: Child’s Choice (3)

"What happened?" Caius asked.

Misha forced herself to remain where she was, then she heaved out a sigh. "I told him I think he should stay here when we leave."

"Oh." Caius lowered his hand. He took a little time with that answer.

Misha found herself grateful he had not immediately told her what she ought to have done. She returned to the table. The chair Carl had pushed aside was still crooked so she set it straight. There was no reason to, really, but leaving it that way bothered her.

Caius followed and stood beside the table. A folded document had been tucked beneath his arm, and he laid it down without opening it.

"That might frightened him."

She sat after releasing another sigh. The regulations were still there, untouched, and she suddenly wanted to throw the entire stack somewhere.

"He’s frightened when we climb too."

He nodded. "I’ve seen it."

"So have I."

She could remember Carl trying to keep his breathing quiet. She could remember the weight of him against her side, and the terrible moment when she had looked away from a threat to check whether he was still there.

That was becoming part of how she fought. Every place had to be examined for enemies, exits, and somewhere she could put a child before something reached him.

"It won’t get easier," she murmured. She rubbed her forehead, pushing a loose strand of hair back. "He’s learning a little now, and I’m glad. But a few lessons won’t make him ready."

"No."

The blond-haired boy drew out the other chair. His height made the little courtyard table seem poorly chosen, and he shifted his legs before settling.

"I could pay for what he needs. Sebastian would keep teaching him, and there must be someone here who can help with using his skill."

Caius listened. His gaze moved toward the spear beneath the awning, where the shaft had been left within Carl’s reach.

Misha followed it. She had almost forgotten how pleased the boy had been less than ten minutes earlier. "He was proud of himself."

"I’m sure he had reason to be."

"Yeah... he thought he was getting ready to come with us."

Caius rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, he mentioned that to me the other day."

Misha turned his way, her eyes slightly wide.

"He wanted to know how long it took to get used to a weapon." He glanced at her, then down at the table. "I told him it depended on the person."

’Excellent. So he was asking everybody except me, and I was making arrangements with everybody except him.’

Misha leaned back. The thought might have been funny under different circumstances, but she could still picture his wet eyes when he turned away.

"Do you think we should take him?"

Caius remained quiet long enough that she began to regret asking. When he finally looked at her, his brows had drawn together slightly. "I think I’d worry about him either way."

"That’s very unhelpful."

"I know. But... Carl was never part of my first life so I’m clueless of what’s waiting for him."

His honesty took some of the irritation out of her. "I can’t promise him I’ll come back, Cai... I can leave him money. I can make sure he has people around. But if he asks me that..."

She let the sentence end. Caius did not rush to finish it for her.

For a while, the only sound was water running through the courtyard channel. Misha had found it soothing when she arrived that morning; now the steady trickle made her want to find a valve and shut it off.

"He already knows you could die," Caius finally murmured. His thumb moved along the fold of the document. "He’s been beside you."

"That doesn’t mean he understands what it would leave him with."

"He may understand more of that than we want him to."

Misha looked down at her hands. Carl had lost people before she became someone he followed, and she had known that from the beginning... that’s why she felt responsible.

Knowing had not prevented her from imagining that a warm room and a trustworthy household could make the next separation bearable. Perhaps they would help, but she had started treating them as an answer to a question he had barely been allowed to hear.

"I still think staying would be better."

Caius nodded his head. "Then you’ll have to talk again."

"He won’t want to." She rubbed her thumb over a small crease in her sleeve.

"Probably."

Misha breathed out through her nose. A reluctant, tired smile curved her lips before disappearing. "You’ve developed a terrible habit of agreeing with the inconvenient parts."

"There have been a few." His mouth lifted faintly, though his attention had already drifted toward the papers.

She followed his gaze. Caius had been staying at his family’s minor residence in Ashmoor, visiting often enough that nobody bothered announcing him anymore. Usually, he came with something useful.

"So what brought you here today?" She tipped her chin toward the folder. "What’s that?"

"Oh, this." Caius drew it closer, then hesitated before opening it. "I went to the Merchant Association."

Misha’s smile faded. She sat forward before he had explained anything else. "For Hiiro?"

He nodded and unfolded the first sheet. A list of branch offices ran down one side, with red marks written beside them.

"I asked them to circulate his description through their settlements contacts." He turned the page so she could read it. "I thought somebody might have seen him without realizing anyone was looking. So far, nothing. But they’ll let me know if that changes."

"Thank you for checking." Her fingers lingered on the table.

"He could be between settlements."

Nobody knew what had happened to Hiiro. They could not even tell her whether he was still alive, and Misha hated how often that possibility surfaced whenever another search ended with nothing.

He wouldn’t just leave. Her fingers pressed against the table’s edge. That was the Hiiro she knew, anyway.