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Redd’s response had roughly the same effect on Druid as a bucket of ice cold water. She let out a sympathetic noise at the report about the subordinate’s illness. She found herself fiercely wishing Etienne hadn’t gone away, so she could ask him to come help. But then the Wealda’s questioning of her gift reminded Druid that the rise was not her responsibility, nor Rivenwood’s.

She had no explanation, other than her fondness for Redd. Druid swallowed. She couldn’t just say that… or could she? She shifted her weight, her skin feeling too warm, too tight. Druid fully anticipated rejection, though perhaps it was for the best if Redd set her straight. She was a leader and a mother, regardless if those roles didn’t particularly fit her, and Rivenwood should be her priority. Maybe she ought to nip things in the bud and put a stop to this silliness.

I brought it for you, she said quietly, because… Druid sighed out a breath, rolling her shoulders a little uneasily. She was determined to just confess, so she forced out, I’m very drawn to you, Redd. I don’t know why and I’ve never felt like this before. But I couldn’t not come see you again and bring you a token of my… she trailed off with the last word going unsaid.