Emberwood do i do

Aye, he understood. That didn't mean he liked it. Nevertheless, he gave her a gruff nod, unable to meet her eyes. Her explanation eased the weight on his shoulders somewhat—until it didn't.

Because if he was Grayday's, not hers, he should be nothing to her. And yet. . .

Someone else coulda helped him, Pygmalion replied. We were close enough to Easthollow that he would've stumbled upon them eventually. His brows drew together. Why are ye so stubborn aboot this? D'ye still have feelings for the man—his son?

Something hot and molten was bubbling over in his stomach; it was only a matter of time, lest something diffuse the situation, that it would exit his mouth in a torrent of words to be regretted much later.