Before I knew it, all three trays were as filled as they safely could be. He pulled over two carts with space for two trays each, and we loaded the trays up, each of us wielding a cart. Only when we reached a large shed with two tables spanning the length with various stations for working with plants and herbs did he finally let the song die on his lips. The absence left a pang in my heart.
“Was her version sad, as well?” I asked as he helped me deposit the trays near the end of the nearest table.
He studied me for a moment, something he’d been doing a lot lately. “I always thought so, but she said it was supposed to be a joyous song.”
“Do you know what the words mean?”
He shook his head as we grabbed buckets to collect water from the pump. “She was from the mountain region in the Flamma Kingdom, ruled by the wolf king, Cincious, and his queen, Elmerdonna. They had a regional mountain language. It was allowed in that kingdom, but the king here outlawed it. He said it would be too easy for her to pass secrets.”
“Wow. That sounds crazy.”
“It wasn’t just at the end that he was mad. He’d never been quite right in the head—it was just kept quiet.”
“And look how well that royal secret worked out for everyone.”
I held the bucket in front of the pump, but he took it from me. “This is a man’s labor.”
“Pumping water is a man’s labor?”
His smile softened all the harsh planes and vicious scars on his face. He flexed his bicep. “Me strong. Hold water for smart lady.”
I laughed and stepped back as he worked. “Earning your keep, then?”
“I always had the grunt jobs as a kid. I was big for my age and lacked the natural dexterity to work the plants and healing remedies. My strength is in…well, strength. Brawn. Power. My role as a dragon male is to protect. And while I formed a brotherhood with the other dragon shifters through training and after, we were always at odds with each other. We were taught to compete— Can you handle that?”
I picked up the water bucket with two hands. “Yes, thanks.”
He nodded, easily holding one bucket in each hand like they weighed nothing. Meanwhile, I’d probably have to come back for more after I spilled half the contents of mine.
“We were taught to compete with each other for placement. To dominate each other. There was always an underlying hostility with us. The women working the plants…it was different. They always worked in harmony. They helped each other instead of trying to show they were better than each other. It was probably because I spent so much time with my mom, but I gravitated toward that mentality. My dad hated it. He called me weak because of it.” His smile dwindled. He set his buckets on the table and reached down to grab mine.
“And are you?” I asked.
He poured the water into the first tray, and I went about reorganizing the leaves.
“Wait, whoa—” I held up my hand when the water was at the right depth. “Not too much. They don’t like being too deep, like in a flood. Just enough to keep them damp.”
He nodded and worked on the other trays. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t plan to answer my question or just needed time, so I didn’t press.
“You leave these inside?” he asked.
“At home? Yes, because I didn’t have sawhorses, and I didn’t want any wild animals getting to them or desperate neighbors stealing them or demons pissing on them. A backyard isn’t as secluded as one might hope. As you know, since you invaded mine before kidnapping me.”
“But they would do better left in the moonlight?”
I pulled my mouth down at the corners. “I don’t know, actually. Let’s put one out and try it. It’ll need to be brought in at dawn, though. Do you trust me enough to leave me a key?”
“At the moment, yes. In an hour, likely not. But I’ll bring it in. You might spill everything.”
He had a point. They were large and heavy trays.
He insisted I stand back while he set up a little table and placed the tray on it. That done, he put his hands on his hips and looked out at the fields then glanced at the sky.
“What?” I asked.
He was back to studying me again. “I should probably take you back.”
Part of me didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay out here and find some new things to try with the everlass. Or maybe go check out that rose garden with him following behind. Or maybe just…stay with him a little longer. Listen to him sing in the moonlight or tell more stories of his past. Maybe tell him a few of mine in return. When he was calm like this, it was so easy to keep company with him. Easy to talk to him. It felt like we could maybe get to a place of joking and banter. Of being friends instead of enemies.