The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

daughter. The taste of smooth vanilla was as comforting as
a warm blanket on a cold night.
I realized I had seen her before when I first arrived here.
She’d been in the crowd of wolven and had smiled as
Casteel and I bickered.
“Kieran,” Casteel drawled. He squeezed my hand as we
stepped through the doors and then let go. “Are you knitting
me a shirt?”
The wolven’s expression smoothed out. “That is exactly
what I’m doing,” he replied, his tone flat.
“He’s actually very good with the needles,” Kirha said,
placing the basket aside.
The syrupy-sweet taste of embarrassment radiated from
Kieran as his cheeks deepened in color. His gaze narrowed
on his mother. My brows lifted as the image that had been
branded in my mind was now replaced by one that included
Kieran knitting a shirt.
That was something that would never leave my mind.
Kirha started to rise as Casteel rushed to say,” You don’t
need to get up.”
“Oh, but I do. I’ve been sitting for so long, I feel like my
legs have gone numb,” she replied as balls of yarn spilled
from Kieran’s lap and tumbled across the carpet. He took
hold of his mother’s arm, aiding her.
Kirha murmured her thanks as she straightened. Under
the lavender, sleeveless gown she wore, her swollen
stomach pulled at the light material. She pressed a hand
behind her hip and stretched her back. “Good gods, this
better be the last baby.”
“Yeah, well, someone needs to make sure your husband
gets that through his thick skull,” Kieran muttered.
“Your father will when he’s constantly changing diapers
again. I birth them, he cleans them,” she remarked, grinning
when Kieran wrinkled his nose. “That’s the deal.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Casteel murmured.