Vangar carefully put the shirt back on.
The embroidered cedar branch rested perfectly against his wrist, the silver-gray stitching catching the light whenever he moved.
His gaze lingered on it.
The emotion in his eyes was so profound it seemed ready to spill over.
"Rory..." His voice was unusually soft. "You're incredible."
The intensity of his gaze made Rory feel slightly embarrassed.
If one looked closely enough, they would notice something hidden beneath his admiration.
Heartache.
A quiet, carefully concealed ache.
Vangar could not imagine what kind of life his Female Master had endured.
A childhood so difficult that she had needed to mend her own clothes stitch by stitch because she couldn't afford new ones.
Rory looked away awkwardly.
"It's only a small embroidery pattern."
She smiled. "It's nothing special."
"No." Vangar stepped closer.
Gently, he took the hand she had just used to mend his shirt. His fingers closed around hers with extraordinary care.
