Harper listens attentively, hand stroking idle shapes of comfort on Edmund’s arm. And only once the boy has worn himself out of words does he speak. “What would you do to help, then? What would that look like to you?” The question is gentle and unassuming, with no intonations to sway the boy’s answer.
“You said you want to help keep your mom and Torchline safe, but we have soldiers, and the council members, and Safrin’s healing fountain and Stargate,” he points out, knowing how deep Edmund’s love for the herald runs. Must be genetic. “Do you not trust in those things?” He doubts that’s the case, but Harper wants to lay a basis of information and leading questions first, make the boy examine his own desires and reasonings.
“You said you want to help keep your mom and Torchline safe, but we have soldiers, and the council members, and Safrin’s healing fountain and Stargate,” he points out, knowing how deep Edmund’s love for the herald runs. Must be genetic. “Do you not trust in those things?” He doubts that’s the case, but Harper wants to lay a basis of information and leading questions first, make the boy examine his own desires and reasonings.
Harper
