Lord Fallow burst into the log cabin, Trinity trailing after him with a bored look on her face, and pointed an accusing finger at the man standing by the stove.
“Bryson! What the hell is this?” He gestured widely towards the girl in the doorway, his face red with fury.
Bryson, the man currently cooking dinner, trailed his eyes over the girl, taking in the blood on her clothes, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Any of that yours Trin?” he asked lightly, and smirked when she scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Of course not,” she said nonchalantly. “Who do you take me for?”
Bryson chuckled, as he turned his focus back to the pot on the stove.
“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Go clean off, dinner is almost ready.”
He followed her in his peripheral until she disappeared up the stairs before turning to face the still fuming lord standing in his cabin.
“Now, what has you so upset Lord Fallow?”
The Lord was still standing in the middle of the room, his hands balled into fists at his sides, looking just moments away from giving himself a heart-attack. Byron dearly hoped that he wouldn’t have to deal with that today.
“What has me upset?!” the Lord bellowed, “are you seriously asking me that right now? I come here to see my daughter, and what do I find? Her coming back covered in blood, carrying daggers!”
Bryson shrugged, taking the food off the stove and taking it over to the table, already set for three people.
“You did ask me to take care of her when you dropped her off here all those years ago,” he reminded. “Why is that a problem now?”
“I asked you to protect her!” Lord Fallow exclaimed with frustration. “I never told you to train her!”
“Same thing,” Bryson argued. “Her training will protect her for far longer than I can.”
“Bryson, you turned my daughter into a bloody assassin!”
“Well, what did you expect?” The light voice from the stairs broke into the tense atmosphere like a knife, causing both men to turn and look at her.
Trinity shook her head as she stepped into the room, now clean of blood and dressed in a blue dress that reached her knees.
“You knew exactly what kind of man you left me with ten years ago,” she stated firmly as she approached the Lord. “Did you really believe that he wouldn’t make sure that I could take care of myself?”
The Lord took in this version of his daughter, who suddenly looked several years younger than her 16 years, trying to reconcile it with the trained killer he had encountered outside.
“I didn’t think that he would train you to kill people,” he said through clenched teeth. “I thought he would just keep you safe here.”
“Then you are more naive than I thought, father,” she scoffed, her words filled with venom. “Now, why are you suddenly here? You haven’t come to visit in years.”
The hint of annoyance in her voice told him clearly that she had rather he didn’t come at all, and that stung more than he had expected. But regardless, he pulled himself together and met her eyes steadily.
“I have come to bring you home,” he said firmly.
