“She’s the Baroness of Castlehaven.”
When the children realized this, most actually comprehended what that meant. The fact she kept coming here didn’t make sense, because she was the Baroness. Glad found it suspicious. What could she want with them? She kept coming here, she kept bothering them all, she had to want something, she had to be expecting something from them.
“Why do you think she bothers with us?” asked Winter. Maybe it was to herself and he had just managed to overhear it. She wasn’t talking to him. He didn’t have to respond.
Winter’s sister wasn’t listening, she was playing with a ball. It bounced up against the wall and back towards herself. If she missed it, Winter caught it to toss it back to her.
“Does it matter?” That was the girl he didn’t know the name of. She tended to hug herself and stay in corners. She never bothered him. For a little girl, she was okay.
Winter stared at her sister. “She’s too nice.”
He hadn’t expected that from her. He glanced over, accidentally catching her gaze.
“What do you think, Golden?”
He wanted to retract, to move away, to pull his eyes out and throw them away. But there it was, a name that wasn’t Gladiolus. Something to distance himself from who he used to be.
He wished he had thought of it before. His golden eyes kept on her icy blue ones. “Never trust someone who seems altruistic.”
However, perhaps he should have kept his vocabulary closer to the level of children younger than ten years old.