Aldwin crossed toward him slowly. “Merde. You look terrible.”
Geoffrey scowled and accepted the wineskin Aldwin tossed toward him without enthusiasm.
For a few moments the brothers spoke quietly together near the hearth while servants hurried forward with hot food and mulled wine for the new arrivals. I pretended not to watch them while absolutely watching them.
They stood remarkably alike when side by side. Same height. Same dangerous stillness when listening. But Aldwin had become sharper somehow. Harder at the edges. Grief and responsibility worn openly into the structure of the man.
And for one deeply unpleasant moment, I saw exactly what Geoffrey might become after another decade of civil war.
The realization chilled me more thoroughly than the storm outside.
Aldwin seemed to notice Geoffrey’s exhaustion worsening the longer they spoke.
“You’ve been south too long,” he said quietly.
“I’ve been where negotiations required.”
“Negotiations.” Aldwin snorted softly. “That implies anyone still intends compromise.”
The Baron muttered agreement from across the hall.
Geoffrey rubbed one hand slowly across his face. “Canterbury fears John may move again before January.”
“He will,” Aldwin replied immediately. “The king mistakes destruction for authority.”
“And the barons mistake outrage for strategy,” Geoffrey returned.
That earned him a long look.
“You sound tired,” Aldwin observed.
“I am tired.”
“No.” Aldwin’s voice lowered slightly. “You sound tired.”
Something unspoken passed briefly between them.
Aldwin studied his brother another moment before his attention shifted unexpectedly toward me.
I suddenly had the uncomfortable sensation of being assessed by a man very accustomed to understanding battlefields quickly.
Apparently I passed inspection because some nearly invisible tension eased from his shoulders afterward.
A servant approached quietly then, bowing slightly toward Aldwin. “My lord, the western tower requests instruction regarding the lower crossing. Ice has begun forming near the banks.”
Aldwin swore softly beneath his breath.
“There,” the Baron said with immense satisfaction toward Geoffrey. “Now none of you are leaving.”
“Wonderful,” Geoffrey muttered.
Aldwin’s mouth twitched faintly for perhaps the first time all evening. Then, unexpectedly, he reached forward and clasped Geoffrey briefly once against the shoulder.
“We’ll stay,” Aldwin said quietly.
For one moment Geoffrey looked almost ready to argue again. Then another violent gust of snow slammed against the shutters hard enough to shake the hall.
He exhaled slowly.