My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
Edmund was a very preceptive child. Apparently he'd gotten her skill for reading people. Of course he sees through her weak dismissal, but Maeve pushes forward. If only because there are things to enjoy and she's not going to have her complicated feelings about his father ruin what is meant to be a nice evening for them.
"He did like flowers. He liked to help me in the garden. This is special though because it was his mother's too. She gave it to him when he was a boy and now it's going to you." Maeve explains, shifting back to sit in front of him, reaching out to run her thumb across the pendant before she brushes back his hair instead. "Now you have a part of him with you even though he's gone."
"He did like flowers. He liked to help me in the garden. This is special though because it was his mother's too. She gave it to him when he was a boy and now it's going to you." Maeve explains, shifting back to sit in front of him, reaching out to run her thumb across the pendant before she brushes back his hair instead. "Now you have a part of him with you even though he's gone."
Maeve
