What is this truth

Bindi reiterated that she would look after the children, be a mother for them, and FitzDutiful smiled with relief plain on his face. "I had worried that things between us might force you to leave too. That I might have scared you away and done our children a disservice too." The word our slipped out, he had meant to say "my" but his innate feelings of wanting children with Bindi too had overwhelmed the moment and corrupted his words. FitzDutiful didn't notice, however, and let it stand as it did.

"I hope, with time, we can fix things." he said, looking away from her as he did so. It was more than he wished - he didn't want to have lost everything he had worked so hard for - and he didn't want to see it if her eyes or tongue betrayed that she didn't feel the same way. He was finding this conversation difficult, unsure how much of himself he could expose to her without rubbing the wounds with vinegar - if the wounds were open. If they were closed, he didn't want to see whether they were healing well or not.

His eyes stayed trained on the cavern ceiling that he had been looking at before Bindi had arrived, the only betrayal of how he felt was the nervous twitch in his tail - something Bindi might know for having known him so long.