[This post is from Phelan’s point of view.]
“Why then?” Jacqueline asked, glancing at Hecate, her brow arching slightly. “Why when it starts to snow?”
“Because some will wait that long to march, thinking our defenses will be less.” Hecate smiled slightly. “They will not expect what they get.”
“They never do,” Marin said softly, smiling crookedly. “That’s why we’re still here I think.”
“I don’t think you’re wrong on that one,” Phelan murmured, settling into a spot next to the fire, slowly sipping at the mug of coffee cradled between his palms. Despite the season, there was an odd chill to the air, a dampness that settled into his joints.
Maybe I’m finally getting old.
He almost laughed out loud and the expression on his face must have given away his amusement because he found Marin looking at him funny.
“What?” she asked, a wry smile on her face and audible in her voice.
Phelan shook his head, grinning. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Just thinking things that shouldn’t be nearly as amusing as they are.”
Now Jacqueline was looking at him with an arched brow. Hecate glanced between the other two women and him and just grinned.
“I think you’ll be in trouble if you don’t elaborate,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee.
“Nah,” Jacqueline said, smirking. “I’ll just get it out of him later. If he doesn’t tell me then, that’s when he’ll be in trouble.”
Hecate laughed at that and Phelan just shook his head, rolling his eyes.
“Trying to start something, aren’t you?” he teased.
Hecate grinned. “I’m not starting anything. I’m just picking on you.”
The way she said it, matter-of-factly with a wide grin on her face made Phelan smile. It was a sign of something changing, a sign that yes, she really was comfortable with them.
It made him glad.
