Page 18 of A Winter Redemption
“Don’t be angry, my darling,” Mila said. She’d gone back to wringing her hands. “It’s really for the best you two didn’t stay together. You’re so happy with Aryn now.”
“Who I’m so keen to meet.” Ketho smiled, forcing a lightness into his voice. “Come in, Sero, you’re blocking the doorway, leaving your man in the cold.” He strode towards them and gently nudged Sero inside.
Sero yanked from the touch.
Ketho shoved the hurt aside. He’d never been in love with Sero. But he’d cared for him. They’d been friends. He’d missed their friendship.
Ketho turned to Aryn. “Here, let me get those loaves from you. They smell delicious. I’m so pleased to meet you, Aryn. He is stunning, Sero. I can see why you are smitten.”
Aryn blushed. He had similar features to Jarne. Although Aryn’s seemed finer and more delicate, making him appear more beautiful and far less severe than Jarne. And his brown hair curled around his ears, a contrast to Jarne’s slicked-back look.
“Yes. Aryn is stunning.” Mila came across the store and wrapped her arms around Sero’s waist. “So there is no reason to be angry, Sero. Especially when you’re so happy with Aryn. And you’ll have a child soon.”
“A child!” Jarne said loudly. “You are having a child?”
Ketho looked back and forth between Sero and Aryn. It did not seem they’d told Jarne. And they probably weren’t pleased that Mila had blurted it out in front of Ketho either.
“They want to adopt from the city,” Mila said. “Aryn told us all about orphanages and workhouses.”
Ketho’s heart lurched at her words.
“The younglings have no parents or people to look after them. They have no homes and have to work for their food.” Tears glistened in Mila’s eyes. “I still don’t understand why people in Bordertown don’t take them in. Why no one will look after them and love them. It isn’t right!”
“Unfortunately in Bordertown, there are many children without homes,” Jarne said. “Greweth Perfumeries is a benefactor to one of the orphanages there.”
Jarne kept speaking, but Ketho had trouble hearing him. His ears rang. Ketho fought to keep the smile frozen on his face.
“And Aryn said that some children even live on the streets, going cold and hungry.” Mila shook her head. “They have to beg and steal for food. It’s awful! So awful! Every youngling should have a home. Somewhere safe. With people who love and care for them.”
Her words sliced into Ketho. He gritted his teeth, looking away as memories rose like clouds in his mind.
Ketho’s hands trembling, his vision blurring as he sewed and sewed and sewed. At night, he’d lain in bed, body pressed against the others. All trying to keep warm, huddling together beneath the threadbare blankets.
“We should get out of here,”his brother had whispered.
Flashes of dark, wet cobblestones filled his mind. Sitting in rain and drizzle that never stopped. Water soaked his rags. He held out his bony, shivering hands, begging for a scrap of food or coin or anything. Fever and coughs racked his body.
Few passers-by met his eyes, not even sparing Ketho a glance. As if this poor, pathetic, trembling child wasn’t worth their notice.
I’ve always loved you and looked after you… I’ll be right here.His brother’s voice stretched through the years.
Ketho strode to the shelves and started to unpack the loaves he held, eyes fixed on the bits of dried fruit as he took deep breaths, trying to ignore the trembling in his hands.
He wasn’t back there.
He never would be again.
He had forests, mountains, and the sky stretching forever above him.
Happy and free. I am happy and free. Nothing binds me.
He repeated the mantra in his head until his heartbeat and breathing returned to normal.
“These loaves smell delicious!” Ketho said, voice sounding surprisingly loud and bright to his own ears. He tore a chunk off and popped it into his mouth. “Amazing! You are the most talented baker, Sero.”
“Aryn and I made them together,” Sero said.
“Well, you are the perfect pair,” Ketho said. “I am happy for you both.”