By the time Maisie and her mate, Gaven, completed the preparations for the evening ration, Loran and Rhiannon had the table set. Loran guided Alaura to the seat at the end, next to her dad. Bronwyn sat directly across the table from her.
Moments earlier, when he had attempted to leave his former bedroom, Rhiannon had stepped in to inspect him. Without asking, she removed his uniform vest and threw it on the bed. He fussed about it, but she ignored him and unfastened the top button of his shirt. When she went for the second button, he stopped her.
“Fine,” she said and tugged at the scabbard belt.
He pushed her hands away but finished what she had started and placed the sword and scabbard beside the vest on the bed. “Satisfied?”
Rhiannon stepped back and looked him up and down. She moved forward, tucked a hair in place, straightened his shirt over his shoulders and adjusted his trousers. By the time she looked up, his face felt flushed. She kissed his cheek and gave him a hug.
“You were a cute little brother, but now you’re a handsome man. Alaura likes you. Don’t worry.”
Only two years in the age difference, Rhiannon and Bronwyn had a close childhood. They had shared secrets, and she knew about his bashfulness better than most. He tolerated her nit-picking more than their older sisters’ because they shared the same mind set; shyness afflicted her, too, but she hid it better.
“Now that you’ve primped and preened me, you tell me not to worry?”
“Bronwyn, be yourself. You’re a sweetheart. And you don’t have to worry about Alaura liking you—she does. I can see it in her eyes when she talks about you.”
“You talk to Alaura about me?” He swallowed hard.
Rhiannon rolled her eyes. “We talk about everyone. But when you enter the conversation, her voice softens, and I can see she’s thinking sweet thoughts about you.”
He endeavoured to hold in the smile but couldn’t. It quickly faded, and he turned serious. “Can’t we enjoy the ration and forget about all this stuff?”
“Is it what you want?”
He nodded.
“Fine.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the bedroom.
Now, with Alaura sitting directly across the table, Bronwyn felt on display. He shouldn’t have combed his hair. She’d think he’d done it for her. While true, he didn’t want her to think it. He cursed himself for his lack of confidence. He agonised about all the stupid things that had worried him as a teen during his attempts to impress girls at the study hall. His parents and sisters watching his every move only intensified his self-consciousness.
Beside him, Isla nibbled on a biscuit waiting for the ration to begin. He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady his nerves. She smiled up at him and slid closer, fitting under his arm pit. He kissed the top of her head, pinched a corner from the biscuit and popped it in his mouth.
Bronwyn glanced at Rhiannon and Loran, who sat to the left of Alaura. His sisters chatted and laughed with her. Their skills with needles and thread had them looking their best.
“It’s good to see so many happy faces around my table.” Maisie sat at the end and smiled the warm smile of a mum pleased to be surrounded by family. As she prepared to grant permission to begin eating, footsteps sounded on the stairs leading to the second-floor dwelling.